


Moon's bad things happen bingo

by MoonstoneMoonlight



Category: Undertale (Fandom), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Darkness is nicer than it seems (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dreamswap (Undertale), BTHB, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blindness, Blood, Burns, Choking, DINTIS - AU, Darkness Is Nicer Than It Seems, Datashift, Datashift - AU, Death, Dintis, Dreamswap - AU, Drowning, Gore, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Malunited fractures, Manipulation, Poisoning, Sickness, Undertale Multiverse, Violence, cursing, dreamswap, dts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 22,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonstoneMoonlight/pseuds/MoonstoneMoonlight
Summary: Prompts for my bad things happen bingo card.





	1. Impaled palm - Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error has an injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood  
> Human Error

Error hissed as he held his hand tensely in his lap, fingers in stiff curls.  
A moment’s distraction in his and Ink’s fight and several inches of sharp bone had impaled his palm, skewering the flesh and glove like butter.  
Not that he hadn’t returned the favour on the artist. Ink had suffered a few broken ribs before they parted, the thought of which made Error’s pained grimace take the edge of a smile.  
It was hardly the first time he had walked away with injuries, and he knew it would only take a few days of patience and lots of stolen chocolate to be healed.  
But still, the wound stung with each heartbeat. Blood leaked at the edges and smeared across his palm, tinting his skin red.  
Only the knowledge that the bone was blocking the bloodflow kept him from tearing the maddening thing out immediately. Instead the glitch hissed curses under his breath, sitting hunched over, cross-legged under the emptiness of the Antivoid as his strings dragged a towel down to him, to wrap the wound and hopefully limit the bleeding. He definitely didn’t want to bleed out.  
Now he just had to... pull it out.  
With wincing movements, Error gripped the end of the bone, feeling jolts of pain at the small shift. He took a breath, let go, steeled himself, already flinching and anticipating the pain. Before he could reconsider he grabbed it and ripped it out.  
Stars, it _burned_. Swearing viciously Error pressed his bleeding hand into the towel, bending almost double as he wrapped his arm in cloth. His strings lashed around in a sympathetic frenzy, glitches crackling and swarming his vision until he was almost blind.  
Breathing raggedly, Error took a long moment to get his glitches under control, wiping the wetness off his string-stained cheeks, silently swearing to get back at Ink. Blue strings slowly tugged a tangle of bandages over, which he would bind his hand with, once there was less blood, once he could unwrap the hand from the towel without sharp jabs of pain. Error huffed a breath, calmer than before, and fought down another wave of glitching as he reluctantly uncurled, throwing the forgotten attack aside.


	2. Tears of fear - Ink and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ink has no sense of self preservation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence

Ink wasn’t exactly... the most _genuine_ person. Without a soul he couldn’t feel the many complexities of emotions, instead subsisting on the feelings he could consume in the form of paint, but it still didn’t allow him a full range of feeling. For an excellent example, as Dream often despaired at him for, he hadn’t nearly enough self-preservation. A lack of genuine fear snuffed out a concern for his own life quite thoroughly.  
Which was probably why he was sneaking around following Nightmare.  
He’d shown up in an AU and Ink immediately recognised the heavy air and tension in his bones that gave away the negative guardian’s presence, naturally he’d been curious about the corrupted skeleton slinking around, so he decided to creep about behind him to see what he was doing. In the past, Nightmare showing up in AUs usually didn’t end well for said AUs. Then again, Nightmare hadn’t done much so far, being on some kind of stealth mission where he stalked through the snowy forest behind the houses and loomed ominously, not really doing anything besides his aura weighting the air. His aura was a curious thing, just like Dream’s. It was the closest Ink could get to feeling without the use of his paints (though of course he preferred the warm positivity of Dream’s aura) he had hoped that being around both guardians at the same time might even feel like having a soul, but much like mixing all his paints together it only left him with a distasteful emotional mess that could be almost incapacitating if he wasn’t careful.  
Something cold and slimy prodded his back and Ink jerked out of his thoughts. Before he had time to react his waist was encircled by a black tendril and he was pulled out from behind the tree he was lingering by.  
Ah, right, he’d been watching Nightmare. Maybe he shouldn’t have let himself get distracted.  
Ignoring the suffocating heaviness of the air Ink forced the corners of his mouth up and grinned at Nightmare as he was dragged out of hiding. An unimpressed, narrow cyan eye stared back at him.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Looking at some kind of weird slug.” Ink replied without missing a beat, though he regretted it a little when the tendril around him squeezed tight and shook him back and forth like a child’s doll. Once his eyelights stopped rolling around in his skull his grin grew wider, greatly amused by how annoyed Nightmare was from his mere presence. He’d only been talking for what, a minute?  
“Wipe that smile off your face.” Nightmare growled. Ink did no such thing, his grin in fact widening as Nightmare twitched irritably.  
“Hey, ask me no questions if you can’t handle the truth!”  
“Oh my stars, just _shut up_ and tell me what you‘re doing here!”  
“That’s contradictory. How can I shut up if I’m going to tell-” Ink’s inane argument was cut off by a tendril that wrapped around his neck like a noose and _squeezed_. It wasn’t too bad at first - Ink didn’t _need_ to breathe after all - though he was wondering if the gooplord was trying to break his neck, then Nightmare evidently realised that he wasn’t having the effect he wanted, more tendrils latching onto the artist and wriggling into his sockets with enough force to make him yelp, more quickly coiling into his mouth and leaving a nasty-tasting trail of corruption across his teeth. He shuddered with discomfort, especially as more tendrils curled around his bones like creeping weeds and held him still, his ribcage feeling too tight for his non-existent soul even though he didn’t need the denied air. Ink didn’t even realise he was shaking until the tendrils tightened and put a stop to it.  
After several long, uncomfortable seconds, the tendrils receded from prodding around in his skull and Ink let out a huff of relief that was cut short, turning his head and coughing up black liquid that might be the corrupted goop or his own inky blood. Ew. The tendrils still slithered and coiled around his bones and Ink could feel the tension in them, ready to squeeze and break his bones and crumble him into splinters and it was a little frightening to think about.  
In front of him Ink heard the other’s irritated grouching. He slid his eyelights to look at Nightmare, who had a hand to his forehead like he was tending a migraine, single eye fixed on Ink with a kind of hateful intensity that made him unusually alarmed. Nightmare’s scowl deepened as he caught Ink’s gaze, then his grip tightened and tendrils writhed back inside Ink’s sockets, scraping and pressing the bone painfully as Ink squirmed instinctively, trying to get away from the pressure in his skull and the ache in his ribcage.  
It felt a lot longer before the tendrils withdrew again and Ink jerked as he found Nightmare’s face looming right over him, fixed in a considering look. A hand grabbed his chin and Ink felt himself flinch, tendrils still coiled around his body keeping him from moving away, breathing heavily even as his mind kept telling him he _didn’t need to breathe_. Unbeknownst to him, Ink’s eyelights flicked to a hazy purple.  
Nightmare tilted his head from side to side, as if admiring something, while Ink barely registered tears running down his face and mixing with the oily trails of corruption, only realising after a moment that his cheeks were wet and his vision blurry. His eyes stung and he blinked, sending more tears slipping down his face, his eyelights flickering between many shades of violet.


	3. Supernatual fear inducer - DS Nightmare and DS Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare has an unwanted visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing and mild violence

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”  
Blue turned to face Nightmare unhurriedly, settling his arms behind his back and a placating smile settling on his face.  
“So sorry for showing up unannounced, but there was no other way for me to contact you.”  
“Why-”  
“I just wanted to return this.” from behind his back Blue revealed a black beanie, his smile a touch smug as Nightmare clearly recognised the hat as Error’s.  
“He left it in Outertale-”  
Nightmare marched forwards and snatched the hat out of his hands to cut off his explanation, scowling furiously at the taller skeleton. He barely held off on summoning a weapon.  
“Great. Now _leave_.”  
He didn’t even want to know how Blue had tracked them here, where they were supposed to be _safe_ ; he just wanted the smiling, smug bastard to go. Blue didn’t move.  
“Is Error here?”  
“None of your business.” Nightmare narrowed his sockets at the other, already out of patience. Blue must have read something in his expression. “So he _is_ here.”  
“I said that’s none of your _fucking business_. Leave!” There was no way he was letting the psycho near his friend, not after seeing the nightmares, the distrust, the _damage_ that Error suffered because of this asshole.  
“Please, Nightmare? Just a conversation, I just want to talk to him-”  
“ _I said leave!_ ” Nightmare jerked forwards, jabbing a bony finger at Blue’s ribcage and glaring up at him. Blue leaned back. He was quiet, while Nightmare realised that his aura was free and seeping all over the place, blue eyelights watching him intently as negativity spilled around. With a frustrated huff, Nightmare reigned in his aura and shot a glare at Blue, who had erased the emotion from his features. For a moment it seemed like Blue might go. Then, “I really do just-” Nightmare didn’t let him finish, punching him hard enough that Blue’s head snapped to the side.  
He stomped forwards, grabbing Blue’s scarf when he started to move away. “Listen carefully, you piece of shit. Error is a good person who’s finally getting over what you did to him, and you’re _not_ going to fuck that up for him. Stay the _hell away from my friends_.” A hand weakly tried to disentangle his arm from the scarf, but Nightmare grabbed Blue with both hands, feeling him shaking, and shook him harder. “ _Did you fucking hear me?_ ”  
“Yes-” Blue’s voice was unusually quiet, eyelights small and tinged an almost imperceptible purple. Nightmare released him roughly, feeling his aura pulsing angrily as he glared at Blue. The taller skeleton didn’t waste a moment escaping through a glitching portal.  
Even as Nightmare calmed down and leant against the side of the house and hissed through his teeth, checking that the others hadn’t heard, he couldn’t regret using his aura on the bastard.


	4. Taunting - Blueberry and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone meets Blueberry in the judgement hall. It isn't the human.

“Well well well,”  
Blueberry jolted into focus as he heard someone murmur from the shadows, a bone attack appearing in his hand as he tensed into a fighting stance. Was it the human? Were they already-?  
“You seem like you’re having a _great_ time.” No, the human didn’t speak like that, little as they did speak. So who...?  
“Show yourself!” Blueberry snapped at the deep shadows in the Last Corridor.  
“Now where’s the fun in that?”  
There was the sound of something slithering, like a drenched snake climbing the walls. Blueberry shuddered.  
“Who’s there?”  
“No one. No one at all. Everyone’s dead, remember? … Well, except the queen. And _you_.” the other spoke with a pronounced grin, “Although that won’t last long.”  
“What do you want?” He couldn’t fathom why a monster would come to mock him after everyone had been killed, unless perhaps they were in league with the human, but that had never happened before.  
“More importantly, what do _you_ want?” the voice hummed, “What did you possibly think you could accomplish, waiting to fight the human until everyone was dead.”  
Blueberry stammered on an answer, still gripping the bone attack in his hand. He couldn’t pinpoint where the voice came from. The owner could be hiding behind any of the pillars.  
“I hoped that they would see the error of their ways-”  
“‘Because everyone can be a good person if they try’?” Blueberry went quiet as the voice laughed, the sound rolling around the empty hallway. “You must really believe that, to let _dear Papy_ die for your philosophy.”  
A hand shot to the orange hoodie tied over his shoulders, gripping the worn fabric like a lifeline as his eyes once again scrutinised the shadows. Something shifted in the dark. “You miss the lazy bastard terribly, don’t you? No matter how many times you lose him and he comes back.” Blueberry choked, gaze sharpening on the faint movement of a silhouette behind a pillar, approaching it with slow, echoing footsteps. “My brother was the best brother I could have asked for,” He said with stumbling words, gripping the bone attack until it might crack with the force. The voice laughed again. “But still _not enough_ -”  
Without waiting another moment, Blueberry lunged, attack poised to hit the taunter’s soul as he threw himself at them. Blueberry slipped through the shadows and crashed heavily into the floor tiles, the bone attack shattering. Looming over him an insubstantial shadow leered down with a wide, thin smile, a single cyan eye boring into him. How- His aim had been perfect-!  
“You really are _suffering_ aren’t you, you _poor thing_.” The creature sounded positively gleeful. A shape emerged from their back and circled down, and Blueberry felt something lightly rub his skull, making him cringe away. “What a terrible shame that it will all be over so soon.”


	5. Clawing at own throat - Nightmare and Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare missed breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for choking and poisoning

Nightmare made a sound of frustration and sunk further into himself, resisting the urge to drop his head on the desk. All the paperwork that came with suddenly running everything was making it impossible to enjoy being evil king of the multiverse. He couldn’t even assign the paperwork to someone else because he didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t his crew to not screw him over, and his crew had the combined paperwork ethic of a potted plant.  
Someone knocked on his door and Nightmare snapped back to attention, eager for a distraction.  
“Come in.”  
The door cracked open and Cross peeked inside.  
“You busy?”  
Nightmare cast an eye over the pile of paperwork he was avoiding, then at Cross, who lingered in the doorway.  
“Not particularly. Why?”  
Cross fully entered the study, carrying a tray and closing the door behind him with a kick, shuffling over to the desk. With a raised eyebrow, Nightmare eyed the tall glass of hot chocolate and burnt pancake on the tray.  
“You missed breakfast, so...”  
One of Nightmare’s tendrils swooped over the desk to push the papers aside, making space for the tray. He looked at the crispy pancake with distaste and instead picked up the hot chocolate, sipping it slowly and appreciating the warmth through the glass. Perhaps he could offer for Cross to eat the pancake, as a gesture of goodwill, or something that meant he didn’t have to eat it.  
“...Thank you.” he muttered after a long pause, taking another swig of the chocolate. It was surprisingly not too sweet, with a pleasant bitter aftertaste like leftover coffee. He had even sprinkled chocolate powder on top.  
Cross nodded and hesitated near the door, hand not quite on the handle. Nightmare could feel his troubled emotions, and waited. Ever since Dream’s capture Cross had been more subdued; perhaps now he would finally talk about it.  
“... Nightmare? Do you care about us?”  
Not the angle of conversation he would have preferred.  
“Why do you ask?”  
“Just... tell me. Honestly.”  
“I suppose I feel protective of you. Does that satisfy you?”  
“No.” in fact, he looked downcast, avoiding his gaze. Nightmare drank the rest of the hot chocolate without taking his eye off Cross, who slouched against the doorframe, face almost hidden in the fluff of his hood as his eyes flicked between Nightmare and the floor.  
As the silence stretched on, Nightmare went to speak, deciding to try and draw the issue from Cross.  
All that came out was a choked sound.  
Cross looked at him as Nightmare coughed harshly, wheezing for breath as he hunched over the desk. His tendrils thrashed behind him and smashed something as he choked, feeling a burning sensation seep down his throat as it became impossible to breathe, panicking at a growing need for air. Nightmare latched onto the desk and drew frantic scratches in the wood.  
Footsteps shuffled over to him faintly, then a shadow in front of him made Nightmare look up, seeing Cross standing over his desk. The goop around his neck sizzled and Nightmare clawed at his throat as the burning intensified, unable to do more than wheeze in pain. Black oil spilled down his fingers but the burning persisted.  
“Poisoning you was too kind.” he heard from above him, looking up to see Cross watching him writhe and tear at his throat, expression drawn tight and emotions wildly torn. Vindication and guilt.  
“C... Cr...” he couldn’t speak, breaking into another painful coughing fit as he rested his head on the desk, shaking.  
“You made my life _hell_.”


	6. You said you would let them go - DS Dream and DS Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare is given an ultimatum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing  
> (also Cross and Error are there too)

Nightmare twisted to the side to block a guard’s sword with his staff, dodging aside of a blade that nearly sliced through his ribcage. He used his size to his advantage to duck away from the guards’ weapons, running on nimble feet to keep his distance, using his staff to keep the fight long range where the guards’ shorter swords were easier to fight. All his evading and parrying was just to buy time while Error made a portal out.  
He felt the weight of Dream’s aura press down from above and glanced up to see the justice lord himself flying in on wings of light, sword at the ready. Nightmare quickly changed his stance to fight Dream, expecting this to come down to a skirmish between the two of them, only paying enough attention to the guards to fight them off when they got close. Now that Dream was here, they were officially on borrowed time.  
“Nightmare.” Dream called down with his usual resonant gravity, touching the ground and spreading his wings like an avenging angel. Nightmare had a strong urge to run over and punch him, but instead just brought his staff up, ready to block the other’s sword.  
“Save me the speech.” the negative guardian snapped, feeling his aura diminish as Dream’s spread.   
“ _Nightmare_.” he repeated more insistently.  
“ _What?_ ”  
Dream made a vague gesture, eyelights looking behind him, and Nightmare turned sharply on his heel to look at the guards, incase that was a signal to attack.  
He froze.  
Error and Cross were in the arms of the guards. Cross squirmed and kicked, the hand over his mouth the only reason Nightmare hadn’t heard his protests, while Error was glitchily rebooting in a guard’s grip.  
“Lost track of your friends, Nightmare?”  
Nightmare whipped around and glared at Dream with as much hatred as he could muster, gripping his staff tightly.  
“Let them go you fuck. They haven’t done anything.”  
“Actually, assisting a known criminal _is_ a crime. As is resisting arrest.” Dream was no longer holding his sword at the ready, instead letting it rest by his side. They both knew Nightmare wouldn’t attack with his friends on the line.  
Dream sighed.  
“How about this? I _could_ let your friends go and waive their charges. They’re relatively minor offences.” Nightmare glared at him with narrow sockets, waiting for the catch. “But I can’t let you walk free, Nightmare.”  
“So my life in exchange for theirs.”  
“Don’t be so dramatic.” That was rich, coming from Dream, lord of all over-dramatism, but Nightmare kept quiet. If Dream let Error and Cross go, they might help him break out later, but on the other hand... it may be too late by then.  
He mulled over his options in his head, but even as he did Nightmare knew what his choice was.  
“Fine. But you clear their record. Let them live normal lives.”  
“Of course.”  
Nightmare fought down the urge to struggle as a guard came and clipped his wrists in handcuffs behind his back, desummoning his staff with a huff. He let himself be dragged over to Dream, who sheathed his sword and scanned his eyes over the small entourage of guards. “Back to the castle, to the prison ward.” he ordered. Nightmare twisted to get a look back at Error and Cross, possibly the last time he was going to see them. The guards had them in handcuffs now, and stood to attention with the two skeletons in tow.  
“Wh- Hey! Dream! You said you would let them go!” Dream glanced back at him, then his eyes travelled to the guards. Nightmare hoped he would call them off, correct the mistake, but-  
“Put them in a separate wing.” was all he said.


	7. Hurts to breathe - DS Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the cold and rain, Nightmare goes without shelter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sickness

It was raining.  
Nightmare sat between the bins in an alleyway, hood pulled up to try and keep out the rain, but he was already soaked through and trembling like a leaf.  
A thick fog had rolled in soon after he found his hiding place, followed by a misty rain that quickly became heavier and colder. Though, the fog helped to hide him a little.  
The night made the rain feel like ice as it clung to his bones, seeping away his heat despite being curled up as small as he could make himself. At least the dark would make it hard for anyone to notice a criminal hiding in a narrow alley. Hiding here was his only option right now, too weak to find shelter elsewhere, though the close proximity to JR made him flinch at every sound, fearing guard patrols.  
Being homeless was awful, and being on the run was worse. He could never stay in one place for long, was too afraid to sleep more than a few hours, and had to find shelter before dark for fear of being robbed - even when he had nothing. At night he had to worry about people chasing him through the streets if he didn’t find somewhere to hide.  
A rattling cough shook his ribcage and Nightmare whined. Getting sick in this weather was unavoidable without any kind of shelter, but it made his chances of outrunning guards very low, and the last thing he wanted was to be captured by Dream when he was almost delirious with fever. At this point, it was likely he had pneumonia.  
He coughed again, harshly, ribs and throat burning. Had he been human, he might be hacking up blood. His breaths came in pained wheezes. Breathing shallowly, Nightmare shifted and pulled the cape close around his neck, but the sopping wet fabric only made him colder, his bones clattering together with muffled clicks.   
He missed the warm house with blankets and a fireplace, the house he had shared with Dream. … Stars he missed Dream. He missed his brother and the old life they shared together, the reassurance of someone being _there_ , and even the villagers’ scorn was a hundred times better than Dream’s hatred.  
How did everything go so _wrong?_  
It hurt to breathe. Rain ran down his skull in cold trails and Nightmare choked on a sob, bones rattling as he felt bitterness burning in his throat.


	8. Touch starved - DS Blue and DS Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error isn't in Outertale when Ink looks for him. Someone else is, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing, manipulation and implied abusive relationships

Snow crunched under his trainers as Ink stepped into Outertale. Powdery snow was kicked up as he walked between the trees, stomping towards a cliff-edge that overlooked the drop into the void below. Usually when Ink came here he would find Error lurking nearby, and they would engage in probably-joking banter, but it was clear from the undisturbed layer of snow that Error wasn’t here. Ink huffed and kicked his feet, throwing up a flurry of snowflakes. This was a waste of time. Even so, he took a moment to look up at the stars and appreciate the spread of lights across the sky. It was pretty, even if he couldn’t stare at them in awe for hours, like Error did.  
The faint crunch of snow made him spin sharply on his heel.  
A smiling face and blue scarf greeted him, Blue having gotten quite close without his notice, and Ink almost summoned his paintbrush on instinct.  
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, while Blue raised his hands in a placating movement.  
“Have you forgotten that I live here, Ink?”  
“Fuck off.” he flipped the other off and decided he’d better go before Blue tried to make conversation with him.  
“Leaving so soon?” Too late.  
“Yup, you’ve made me want to leave immediately.”  
“But you came here to see someone, didn’t you?” Ink paused, then brushed it off. Blue was irritatingly good at guessing things like that.  
“And it looks like they didn’t show up, either.” Blue continued, taking a step forwards. Ink watched him.  
“That’s a pity.”  
“Not really.”  
“Isn’t it? It seems to me like you were looking forward to seeing them.”  
“I wasn’t-” Blue took another step forwards and Ink cut himself off, squinting suspiciously but refusing to step back. The other was only a few feet in front of him now.  
“It seems to me like you’re lonely.”  
“... I’m not.” he wasn’t sure why he hesitated, but Blue only seemed encouraged by it.  
With a quick movement Blue reached forwards and ensnared his hand, interlacing their fingers before Ink could pull away.  
“It’s okay. I’m lonely too.”  
“I said I’m not lonely.” he didn’t try to untangle their hands, though. When was the last time he’d held hands with someone? Probably never. C and Boss weren’t really big on hand holding, or physical contact in general.  
Blue gave him a small, secretive smile, and gently tugged on his hand, turning to walk back into the forest.  
Contrary to common sense, Ink followed him.  
“You know the snowfall is quite heavy today, I think some of the houses might get snowed in. The paths will certainly have to be shovelled by the end of the day...”  
Blue kept up an idle chatter that Ink didn’t really pay attention to, but he didn’t really mind it either. He still found it strange to feel his hand clasped in Blue’s, squeezing the other’s fingers curiously, jolting when Blue squeezed back.  
When they reached Blue’s house Ink was ushered onto the couch while Blue went to the kitchen. Ink found himself almost missing the feeling of the other’s hand, but leaned into the couch and crossed his arms, listening to the sounds from the kitchen. Far off in the house he could hear the sound of a clock ticking down the seconds and he wondered what time it was.  
A few minutes later Blue returned with two mugs and set them on the table, but Ink was distracted from them by the other once again weaving their hands together, sitting close enough that their sides touched. Ink opened his mouth to tell the other he was too close, then closed it. Blue smiled and leaned into his side, taking a sip from his mug and encouraging Ink to do the same as he kept up a stream of mindless conversation that filled the silence.  
Ink drank his hot chocolate in small mouthfuls and listened to Blue talk, feeling the fingers twined in his own and the solid weight leaning against his side, and started to relax. Blue was warm, and Ink barely noticed himself leaning slightly on him. The other kept up his chatter without pause, his thumb gently brushing over Ink’s wrist.  
By the time the clock announced the hour Ink had finished his hot chocolate and felt in a half doze, jolting back to attention at the clang of the timepiece.  
“I need to get back to JR- I was only supposed to be gone a few minutes-” he stood unsteadily from the couch, hand still in Blue’s, feeling uncharacteristically panicked. He hadn’t even intended to go to Blue’s house, how the hell had he spent so long just listening to him?  
“I’m sure it will be alright if you stay a while, if there was anything urgent they would have called.”  
“But Boss will be wondering where I am,” he reluctantly started to disentangle his hand from Blue. The other’s fingers dug into his hand and made it impossibly difficult. Blue leaned forwards, ensnaring Ink’s arm with his other hand. “He’ll understand. It’s not been that long, you know.” Ink looked at him, then tugged his hands, “I should still-” Quickly but gently, Blue pulled him back onto the sofa, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and folding Ink into an embrace. He shushed the shorter, a hand lightly running over Ink’s head. “There’s no need panic, you can stay a little still. Just a few more minutes?” Ink wasn’t sure when the other had let go of his hand but now Blue was cradling his face, looking at him earnestly, thumbs gently brushing his cheekbones. Their faces were close, almost touching. Ink felt warm.  
Blue planted a gentle kiss on his mouth.  
“Stay a while.”


	9. Burns - Nightmare and DS Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream has a strange new prisoner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for swearing and burns

Halfway through the day, Dream received an alarming report and a summons to the prison ward. A monster had been arrested in Underswap for attempting to kill a resident; the report claimed that the attacker was seemingly weakened but dangerous, emitting a negative aura that had made his capture significantly difficult. Dream quickly made his way to the prison and questioned the guards, but they swore their new prisoner was not Nightmare - completely visually distinct. They had put the monster in a magic-reducing cell to keep him contained.  
Despite the restriction, the guards said they still felt the press of negativity and Dream dismissed them for the day.  
Dream quietly entered, questions buzzing in his mind, finding the monster sitting lazily in his cell. As he saw Dream, an unsettling grin slowly stretched across his face. The monster was covered in an oily black substance that dripped off his vaguely skeleton-like frame, single cyan eye fixed on Dream. If he squinted, Dream could see the limp outline of oily tendrils that coiled from the monster’s back. The image seemed strangely familiar and yet he couldn’t place it.  
“Well well well.” the monster chuckled quietly, a creepy, resounding noise inside the cell. “You must be the leader here.” Dream nodded, watching the other narrowly. The monster tilted his head, smile growing. “Most unfortunate for you. When I leave, I think I’ll be taking your dust with me.”  
With a scowl, Dream stepped forwards. “You presume you shall be leaving.”  
A dark laugh came from the cell. “You’re a fool if you think this place can keep me-” the other cut himself off suddenly.  
Then, “Dream?”  
A little startled, Dream cleared his throat. “Lord Dream Von Licht, yes.”  
“When the fuck did you get taller?”  
Thrown off by the sudden change in demeanour, Dream didn’t reply.  
“The wings are new too-” the other paused, going still and quiet as the cyan eye widened in realisation.  
Dream watched the prisoner’s reaction, beginning to form a realisation of his own.  
“... Nightmare?” The negative aura, the inky corruption, the recognition; it was almost like a bastardised version of Nightmare. But not _his_ Nightmare. Criminal though he was, Nightmare wasn’t… _this_.  
The other’s grin had returned, confidence reasserted. “Well isn’t this _interesting?_ ”  
Dream inclined his head slightly, stepping closer to the cell.  
“You look like you ate all the apples.” Nightmare continued, head tilted, eye narrowed.  
“As do you.” With slow movements, Dream stepped almost within reach of the cell, returning Nightmare’s stare. Nightmare’s smile widened.  
“I took the power I _deserved_ and made my universe my kingdom. My ‘brother’ is a pathetic insect beneath my feet.” he unsteadily stood, eye fixed on Dream. “Perhaps I should take this universe for my own, too, spread some delicious carnage and death around this too-happy multiverse. Once I beat the fight out of you, this place will be easy pickings.”  
“I’d like to see you _try_.” The confirmation that this version of Nightmare was a killer was... unsettling. It made him feel an odd rage in his soul that replaced the so familiar guilt- _pity_ that he usually felt facing Nightmare.  
“Oh I won’t need to try. Open the door, I’ll prove it. Unless you’re _afraid_.” The other’s confidence didn’t waver; clearly this Nightmare had forgotten the exact nature of the apples.  
“You seem grossly misinformed of how this multiverse works.”  
Hand on his sword, just as a precaution, Dream stepped forwards and opened the cell door.  
For a brief moment, Nightmare’s smile widened, insane and triumphant, tendrils rising up like snakes.  
Then Dream’s aura flooded the cell and the corrupted guardian screamed.  
Neatly slotting the door closed behind him, Dream felt his aura lessen slightly under the magic suppressors, enough that Nightmare stopped screaming. The other had shakily wrapped himself in his tentacles, the oily corruption bubbling slightly with the afterburn of Dream’s light. In the brief moment of quiet as Nightmare peered at him from between his tendrils, Dream stared narrowly at the slightly shaking guardian, feeling vindicated. This was a Nightmare who was evil without doubt, who had never seen justice for his heinous actions. He… _deserved_ it.  
Nightmare hissed and uncurled a little, tendrils lashing out with fury, but they withered as soon as they reached Dream, disintegrating under the weight of his aura. With a snarl Nightmare recoiled again. Dream watched him calmly, a faint smirk crossing his face as he stepped forwards, keeping a tight hold on his aura. Nightmare took a step back. Another step, and Nightmare was already against the wall. As Dream continued to advance Nightmare slid along the cell wall until he found himself in a corner, tentacles snapping out violently only to recoil, singed.  
With only a foot or so of distance between them, Dream stopped.  
“As you can see, things are different in _my_ multiverse.”  
“Fuck off,” Nightmare spat up at him, pressing back into the stones. Dream chuckled and leaned forwards, taking the other’s chin in hand and letting his aura swell. Nightmare _screamed_.  
His other hand quickly reached out to keep the flailing monster in place, the goop bubbling and sizzling under his hands as Nightmare squirmed and shrieked, starting to feel the texture beneath his fingers change. After only a minute, Dream pulled away. Left behind were hand marks seared into the black corruption, slivers of white bone visible in the deepest burns, though Nightmare quickly shielded the marks with his hands before Dream could properly inspect them.  
“ _You fucker-_ ” he garbled, voice distorted from the scorched goop near his throat. Dream raised a hand sharply and Nightmare flinched. Feeling his point proven, he gave the corrupted guardian a thin smile, stepped back, and left the cell, taking care to lock the door behind him.


	10. Loss of sight - Ink and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight happens in Waterfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing, drowning, and loss of sight

When Ink finally picked up on the feeling of a disturbance in the multiverse, Error had already destroyed half of Underfable. Ink caught up with him in Waterfall, following the wake of destruction; scattered dust, mangled code, all problems to fix later.  
Civilians had already fled the place or been strung up and shattered by the destroyer, leaving the area an empty battleground for the two of them.  
As he caught sight of Error standing by the river Ink broke into a run, sending a slash of paint at the destroyer that was barely evaded.  
“Hi Error!”  
Strings circled down to ensnare him and Ink was forced to duck and dive away to avoid the threads, escaping all but a few that left deep scratches in his legs.  
“Fuck off!”  
Ink dashed forwards, paintbrush glancing off Error’s skull as he rushed past, skidding into the long grass for cover. Strings wove between the plant stems in pursuit as Ink edged towards a crop of rocks, the grass disguising his movement. At the sound of a blaster being summoned Ink dove behind the rocks, hearing a beam of magic searing the ground behind him.  
Peering over the outcrop, he saw steam rise from the burnt grass. Ink waited, chose his moment, and pounced. His paintbrush smacked Error full in the face, _crack!_ the destroyer was sent reeling backward, clutching his skull with a howl of pain. Darting away again, Ink heard the gaster blaster firing and ran for cover.  
As Error threw uncoordinated attacks around, Ink retaliated with paint bullets that the destroyer didn’t even try to dodge, grunting in pain as his ribcage cracked audibly.  
Ink watched carefully, seeing Error spread his strings around like feelers that skittered over the grass.  
The glitch shifted on his feet, summoning a row of defensive bones, but a misstep sent him suddenly crashing backwards into the river mid-attack.  
In the time it took Error, splashing and coughing, to grasp the edge of the trench and break the surface of the water, Ink had already crept from his hiding place to crouch on the riverbank and watch.  
“That went well for you.”  
“Shut up!” the glitch swiped at him, missing by a mile. Ink tilted his head curiously, looking closer, taking the rare opportunity to study Error’s face. The rough bone was marred with a reddening crack across his skull, creeping up from his eyesocket, with more faint chips and scars that faded into the black skull, the sockets filled with buzzing glitches and marked with blue strings. Error twitched his head a little side to side, listening.  
“Are you blind now?” Ink asked with interest, waving a hand in front of the destroyer’s face.  
“I said shut up!”  
Error threw a curled fist in the direction of his voice, strings coiling about, but Ink batted his wrist aside with ease, prodding at the glitch’s hands until his violent flinching sent Error flailing back under the water with a splash.  
After a few minutes Error dragged himself to the bank again.  
“Well, that’ll make it harder to destroy!”  
Error wheezed and didn’t reply, his cold and soaked clothes weighing down his bones. If he listened closely Ink could hear him rattling.  
“I wonder how long you’ll be blind for?”  
The destroyer twitched as Ink rustled the grass, fingers digging into the soft ground. Glitches sparked along the crack in his face and in his sockets, climbing across his skull, popping up painfully at his fluctuating emotions. Error winced.  
He was beginning to pull himself out of the pool, so Ink planted a foot on his face and pushed him back under the water, pulling away when the thrashing glitch tried to drag him down with him. The water foamed as Error flailed and fumbled around for the ledge, panicking with a pointless need to breathe, while Ink watched with interest.  
After a long minute he picked up his paintbrush and headed back towards the torn apart Snowdin, leaving Error to scrabble to escape the river and recover his sight.


	11. Locked in a cage - DS Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence and implied kidnapping

Dream woke with a jolt. He had a pounding headache, and was curled up uncomfortably on his side, breathing heavy, dusty air. He tried to stretch his aching bones and jerked as his skull hit something hard and cold. Surprise made him a little more awake as he scrambled into a crouch; Dream quickly found that he was in a very small cage, walls made of a thick wire mesh that almost obscured the dark room beyond.  
Headache worsening from the sudden movement, Dream let himself slide back to the floor, slowly feeling a hand over the cage walls. He could assume what was going on. The dizziness - drugged, most likely - was combined with a weight in the air that he recognised now as induced magic suppressors, though the lack of his usual shimmering wings of light would have tipped him off if his thoughts weren’t moving so sluggishly.  
He wasn’t sure who had organised his kidnapping, remembering barely anything that led up to being captured, and unfortunately there was a considerable list of possible culprits.  
Testing the strength of the walls proved useless. With the magic suppressors on, much of his power was gone, and with it his strength. The loss of his usual wealth of magic was... unsettling. But he didn’t panic, panic wouldn’t help him. He couldn’t let his mind wander to who might have taken him, what he was being held for, what they might do to him… He needed a plan.  
Dream shifted uncomfortably in the cramped space, which would have been small for even an average person, but there was no comfortable way for him to sit or lie.  
The sound of footsteps on stone brought back his attention, Dream’s dim eyelights flicking to a dark shape that had entered the room carrying a torch. The footsteps led to the cage and stopped.  
“Oh, you’re awake.”  
The torchlight swept across the cage and Dream winced at the brightness. He couldn’t see the other’s face, but he made a mental note of the other’s voice, unfamiliar though it was. He may need to recognise it later.  
“That wore off faster than expected, but you look in pretty good health. Not broken any bones, have you?”  
“Why do you ask?” It was possible he could feign an injury and use it to his advantage, but only if it would actually matter to whoever had come to check on him...  
“Our contractor wanted you in good condition.” A pause, as the torch moved and the footsteps echoed in a circle around him. Dream did his best to keep them in his line of sight, shifting uncomfortably in the cage.  
“‘Little roughed up maybe, but not dead at least. Good enough.”  
Seemed he’d need a different tactic. Perhaps… there was a way that could at least loosen the guard’s tongue.  
Lacing his fingertips through the mesh of the cage, Dream focused on projecting his aura, feeling the suppressors trying to choke the small flow of magic.  
“Who would that contractor be?” he asked, breathing shakily. There was a slight rise of positivity from the guard.  
“Dunno, was made anonymously.”  
Dream cursed silently. He needed to get answers quickly, he couldn’t keep using his aura for much longer; instead he took a different approach.   
“Where am I being taken?” he tried again, curling his fingers in the mesh.  
“Probably to some rich asshole’s house. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll keep you as an ornament rather than just killing you.” That sounded like an abominable existence, no matter how it played out.  
“Is that, likely...?” trying to use magic through the suppression field was exhausting, it felt hard to breathe, hard to think.  
“Well your odds are pretty good. Terms were to deliver you in a cage, alive.”  
Dream tried to push more of his aura through the mesh, to get any scrap of useful information.  
“And you have,” a wheeze, “-no idea who could have made this... purchase?”  
“Nah,” the guard’s voice sounded slightly closer. Suddenly there was an almost deafening clang and Dream muffled a yelp as the cage shook, pulling his hand back sharply - the blasted guard kicked it!  
“If that feel-happy aura is any indication, it’s a very lucky fella.” There was a clicking sound, then Dream wheezed as he felt the air grow unbearably heavy, choking. He dropped back to the cage floor under the weight, curling up as the last of his magic was cut off with a choked cry.


	12. Mercy killing - DS Blue and DS Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error goes to Outertale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing, major injuries/gore, mild violence, and death

Error snuck out of the house through a portal, landing in the snow with a quiet crunch. Nightmare and Cross had got into an argument - again - and Error had needed a place to retreat to while they screamed nonsense at each other, which would eventually devolve into trying to out-meme or out-prank each other. Neither of which was good to be in the middle of.  
Tugging habitually at his scarf, face upturned towards the sky, Error took in the glittering spread of stars and let out a relieved sigh, feeling tension start to leave him under the light of the magnificent constellations.  
It was peaceful here - in his opinion the most beautiful AU - the perfect place to make his troubles melt away.  
He pulled his hood up to shield his skull from the snow and wind, feeling the cold bluster against him. With slow steps he headed towards a snowbank that allowed a better view of the sky.  
There was a sound from between the trees. Error stilled.  
He held himself motionless and listened intently, hearing the faint falling of snow, the occasional tree creaking.  
Then the sound came again.  
An awful crunching, cracking sound, like someone crushing eggshells into smaller and smaller pieces. A barely audible whimper followed, which drew him to start walking off the path and investigate.  
Crunching through the snow brought him close enough to see a figure slumped in between the trees, close enough to see the other’s blue scarf and stop dead in his tracks.  
Blue didn’t move.  
For a long minute Error was still, just watching. Snow continued to settle on Blue’s unmoving form, the wind tugging on the blue scarf lightly.  
Blue didn’t seem to even breathe.  
Hissing between his teeth, Error gave in to curiosity and stepped closer, picking at the threads of his scarf nervously as he approached. Soon he was stood right in front of Blue, and there was still no reaction.  
Closer now, Error could better see the sorry state he was in. He crouched down next to Blue, fishing in his pocket for his glasses, which he propped up on his face and peered through intently.  
White bones were littered with bruises and scratches that crisscrossed his skull and down his neck under his scarf, some deep enough to leak marrow. One of his arms was snapped almost off, a steady drip of marrow winding from the splintered bone, while his hands were a mangled mess as if someone had taken a hammer to them. Looking further Error could see Blue’s legs at awkward angles, trousers stained with spots of marrow, one of his ankles seeming to be bent all the way around. No doubt the marks and broken bones spanned his whole body.  
If it weren’t for the fact that Blue hadn’t dusted yet, he’d assume he was already dead. It certainly looked like he’d been dumped in the snow and left to die. Peering into Blue’s empty sockets, Error saw the dripping marrow and wondered how Blue had gotten like this, he was usually good at weaselling his way out of confrontation. Although the mangled body was disturbing to look at, Error didn’t find himself with much pity; he owed Blue nothing, and he had probably brought it on himself. He messed with the wrong person and paid dearly for it.  
There was a quiet rasping sound from Blue, a very faint light flickering in his hollow sockets - he was still just about holding onto consciousness, seeming to finally realise Error was there. A faint trembling started and Error heard another crack, startling and loud now that he was this close.  
“... E...”  
Blue’s voice was barely a whisper, his shaking worsening as he tried to form disparate syllables, voice trailing into a choked rasp.  
_Crack._  
“... E...r...” Blue stifled a pained whine, eyelights flickering sporadically.  
“H...h-...” his voice failed and Blue‘s breathing grew laboured as another crack resounded.  
Error tilted his head as Blue quivered, still desperately trying to speak, and he could guess what Blue was trying to say. With a faint smile and a nod, Error’s strings slipped inside Blue’s scarf and coiled down his bones to ensnare his soul. A light tug drew the soul to hover above Error’s waiting hand, another crack emitting from it, looking like it was moments from shattering into pieces as Error’s strings wrapped around and held it together. Jagged cracks marred the soul like broken glass, spread so far that pieces looked about ready to fall off if it weren’t for the strings that enveloped it. Blue whimpered in relief as his soul stopped cracking.  
There was a silence as Blue shifted slightly, twitching, sockets closing ever so slightly. Error cast an eye over Blue and, still holding a sympathetic smile, began to squeeze the soul bound in his strings.  
Blue jolted, sockets going wide and panicked; frantic sounds fell from his mouth and he tried to prop himself up on splintered arms. A mangled hand tugged weakly at Error’s scarf.  
More blue strings spun around Blue’s neck and pulled him back into the snow as Error continued to squeeze. The soul cracked further, starting to deform in his grip, Blue’s unintelligible protests choking on wailing sobs as the strings cut into his soul. A final squeeze and the soul bent inwards, cracked, shattered. Blue screamed hoarsely, then fell still and silent.  
Error sat and watched dust mixing with snow until he was left staring at a pile of torn and ragged clothes. Standing and brushing himself off, Error eyed the heap of dust-streaked clothes and marrow-stained snow. He turned to leave.  
_‘It was a mercy killing,’_ Error told himself as he rearranged his scarf, ignoring the vindicated burn of satisfaction in his soul as the dust began to carry off on the wind into the starry abyss.


	13. Ambush - DS Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare's friends are in JR, somewhere.

BTHB m (Dreamswap)  
Ambush - DS Nightmare

Nightmare was trying to break into JR.  
Usually Nightmare wasn’t the one doing the rescuing, typically it was Error breaking into JR to bust him and Cross out after their latest dumb escapade, but this time it was up to the negative guardian to save his friends.  
It wasn’t like he’d never broken into JR before - or broken out - in the years before he’d met Cross and Error, but the security had only improved over the years and he really wished he could have Error’s portals aiding him right now. Instead he was dressed in a spare uniform he’d found in a changing room, sleeves and trousers rolled up but still too big for him, as he walked the halls and attempted to look like he fit in.  
So far, he hadn’t encountered any guards up close. Nightmare hoped his luck would last.  
The prison ward was fairly deeply embedded within the JR castle, to make it harder for prisoners to escape, and Nightmare felt the prickle of paranoia as he echoed down long corridors towards his captured friends. As time dragged on it was all he could do not to run, which would instantly draw attention to himself, though he was watched by no one.  
As he descended the steps to the cells he thanked the stars he hadn’t encountered any trouble with the guards along the way. His ‘cunning disguise’ likely wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny.  
The prison ward was cold and quiet, awfully familiar, and Nightmare suppressed a shudder as he set about looking around the cells. The first two were empty. The next had a large dragon monster asleep inside. Another had a fire monster sitting on the floor in boredom. The next was empty, and the next, and the next...  
Nightmare felt his panic rise as he reached the last cell, slightly ajar and empty too. Had Cross and Error already escaped? Where were they?!  
The sounds of footsteps behind him made him whip around, hearing dozens, maybe more, sets of footsteps in the previously quiet prison. Guards appeared from the stairs he’d come down, out of doorways he’d thought were locked, blocking every exit just by the sheer number of them. It looked like half of the defence division had arrived just to fight him. His soul dropped.  
It was an ambush. Of _course_ it was. Stars knew where Cross and Error were being kept.  
He cursed Dream, knowing the other had planned this, counting on him trying to save his friends and he’d played right into his hands.  
The first few guards that rushed him were kept back with swipes of his staff, but even he knew it was pointless. There were too many.  
The next few arranged themselves in a closing circle, weapons bristling, forcing Nightmare back towards the end of the corridor. A sword nicked his arm when he moved too slow. He slashed his spear at them, tried to raise his aura in defence, but all he could do was delay the inevitable. All too soon Nightmare found his back against metal bars. One of the guards lunged and he pressed back, stumbling backwards into the cell as the door swung open behind him.  
Two guards followed him inside and Nightmare slashed his spear in front of himself defensively. The guards kept a distance, but wouldn’t be kept away long, crowding him against the wall. The cell door shut with an abrupt clang. There was a call from outside,   
“Keep him busy until Lord Dream arrives.”


	14. Neglect/abandonment - Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare waits by the tree.

BTHB n  
Neglect/abandonment -Nightmare

 

A little negative skeleton sat at the base of the great tree, curled between two large knotted roots that shielded him from the wind. Even nestled in the shelter of the tree, he felt the cold biting his bones, huddling into his stiff purple clothes with knees pulled to his chest, pressed back against the fork of the roots in an attempt to keep warm.  
Dream was late home again. He usually was, nowadays.  
At first when Dream didn’t come home on time Nightmare had panicked, afraid something had happened to his brother, but now he knew that Dream had just lost track of time, talking to the villagers or playing with the children.  
Nightmare would have liked to join his brother at the village, but he knew he wasn’t welcome.  
The villagers hated him.  
He knew why; Nightmare was the negative counterpart to Dream’s positivity, part of a balance that no one wanted. A coldness that opposed Dream’s warmth. But he would have liked to be included, have liked to be able to walk through the village without scornful looks and disdainful shoves, to never have to worry about rocks being thrown at him when Dream wasn’t looking. He wished he didn’t feel unwanted simply for existing.  
Nightmare never told Dream the full extent of the villagers’ hatred. Part of him didn’t want to spoil the friendships his brother had, and part of him... part of him was terrified that Dream wouldn’t care. He didn’t know if he could cope with Dream hating him too, just the thought made him feel sick and shaky. Dream was warmth and kindness and the only thing Nightmare thought worth having in the world.  
The smell of the wind changed and Nightmare looked up in time for a snowflake to land on his skull, followed by another, then another. Nightmare leaned back against the trunk with a quiet whine as snow whisked about, futilely trying to shield his head from the settling flakes as he reached up to untie the cloth wrapped around the tree trunk. Usually when it was cold he and Dream would take shelter together under the tree’s shroud, cuddling and keeping eachother warm while admiring the snow’s prettiness, but Dream was still far away in the village.  
Snow settled on the fruit-burdened branches of the great tree, whiteness beginning to stick to the bark and the grass and Nightmare too. Nightmare bundled the worn blanket around himself, but the snow was quickly covering the fabric, coldness clinging to him where it melted. The small skeleton huddled under a blanket of snow, pressing against the tree roots, bones trembling.  
Dream would be taking shelter in someone’s house, out of the cold and wet, probably forgetting that Nightmare was waiting for him back at the tree. He’d forgotten about Nightmare, again. He always did. Always _would_.  
Nightmare shivered with cold.


	15. Sadistic choice - Dream and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence, injury and malunited fractures

Nightmare caught up to Dream in Fablefell.  
He had caught the other’s trail and chased him up and down the multiverse, running and portalling and wearing each other down until Dream made a mistake in his haste, jumping into a negative AU rather than a positive one. The drop in positivity knocked him back a step, slowing him down enough that Nightmare reached him.  
The negative guardian felt a rise in power as he stepped through his own portal, tendrils unfurling sharply and swaying like snakes preparing to strike. Determined to fight Nightmare off until he could make his escape, Dream summoned his bow and Nightmare’s tendrils were soon bristling with golden arrows as Dream ducked and rolled away from the other’s attacks. Nightmare approached slowly, patiently waiting for Dream to tire as he boxed the other into a corner.  
Swipe, dodge, another arrow to add to Nightmare’s burning collection-  
Another step away and Dream's back hit the wall and he jolted with surprise, not having a moment to dodge before a tendril swept his feet out from under him and his skull hit the wall with a painful _crack_. Dazed, Dream made a disorientated attempt to fight as more tendrils curled around the felled guardian, snapping several delicate bones with their enthusiasm as Dream was dragged through the snow towards Nightmare, squirming groggily and trying to summon another arrow to defend himself. A tendril coiled around his arm and snapped his wrist with a flick, prompting a cry as Nightmare crouched next to him, grinning, tentacles writhing around the positive guardian.  
“Caught you, brother dearest.” he cooed.  
Dream scowled in response, though the expression twisted into pain as a particularly sharp squeeze cracked his ribcage. Wheezing, Dream kicked at Nightmare uselessly, getting a broken ankle for his efforts. Nightmare lifted him to hang limply in the air, then dropped him through a portal.  
Dream landed on hard stone with a yelp. From the negativity in the air he knew it as his brother’s castle; around the room he’d fallen in were his brother’s Sanses, for the time being only watching him curiously. His ribs creaked and the already broken bones jostled, but Dream stubbornly forced an arm under himself and rose to his knees, testing his weight on his ankle before he was abruptly tugged into the air. Hissing in pain and kicking wildly, Dream caught a glimpse of Nightmare's grin, then he was shaken back and forth like a ragdoll and thrown, slamming his back into a wall as Dream shrieked and fell, landing on the floor again with a pained huff of air. Nightmare chuckled somewhere above him as Dream glared with unfocused golden eyelights.  
Nightmare's smirk widened, eye narrowed to a sliver, and a tendril snuck out to break the other's arm for good measure, earning another harsh rasp of pain. Dream's breathing was erratic and shaky as he haltingly pulled his arms close to his chest, finding it hard for his thoughts not to be eclipsed by his injuries as he watched Nightmare.  
A tendril snaked from Nightmare's back and snagged one of his Sanses from where they were watching the two, nudging him towards Dream, who had curled up on his side, unable to push himself off the ground.  
“Heal him.”  
“... Boss?” the Sans he'd picked out - Killer, apparently - gave him an uncertain look. “I'm gonna need to set his bones to heal right-”  
“Don't.” Nightmare didn't bother to acknowledge the confused stare. He cast a sly look at Dream, who seemed to be struggling to breathe, no longer paying much attention to his surroundings. “Just heal him.”  
With a shrug Killer crouched next to the guardian, Nightmare's tendrils slipping around Dream to hold him in place as Killer rested a hand on his skull, healing magic seeping into the bone. Dream relaxed a little from the soothing magic, making a faint, soft warble and uncurling a little. A tendril pet his skull with mocking tenderness.  
Nightmare watched with a grin as the snapped bones healed back together, fused at odd, twisted angles. The tendrils withdrew a small distance as Killer stood and shuffled away, Dream making a quiet murmur of confusion. Golden eyelights met a cyan gaze and Dream slowly shifted, trying to rise to his feet only to cry out as the malunited wounds flared with pain. He fell back down with a thump. Nightmare chuckled darkly as Dream struggled to move away, bones crooked and brittle; he coiled a tendril around the other's throat, tugging Dream across the floor until he was close enough to dig sharp claws into the newly healed crack in his skull, drawing a whine of pain. “ _Good luck running now, Dream_.”


	16. Playing with puppets - Blueberry and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blueberry is Error's prisoner, and has been for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for puppeteering and nonconsensual touching

Blueberry was in the antivoid. When wasn’t he? It seemed like he always was.  
It felt like forever, though it had to have only been days since Error had kidnapped him, since his world was... torn apart. Since then he’d been strung up on strings that bound his soul painfully tight.  
Error had left some time ago, to do… something. He hadn’t said what, and Blueberry didn’t want to know. There was no way to track the passing of time, no way to turn from the endless white and endless silence that bombarded him from all sides.  
The strings weren’t just around his soul but curled around his limbs as well, immobilising him, making him unable to do anything but wait and listen as time crawled past.  
Blueberry refused to talk to himself, so instead he hung quiet in the heavy silence.  
At times he felt like the indeterminable floor of the antivoid might be inches from his feet, struggling to move and brush the floor with his boots, at others he felt the floor might be infinitely far away, the strings the only thing keeping him from falling into vast oblivion and smashing to pieces.  
Every movement jostled the strings around his soul and he felt them dig in painfully.  
He wanted to go _home_.  
He had pleaded, screamed, cried for Error to take him home, but had only succeeded in making the destroyer irritated. But he couldn’t help it! He missed Papy so much it made his soul hurt more than the bites of the strings, even thinking about it had small tears dewing his sockets. He just wanted to see his brother again. He wanted to feel _safe_ again.

The sound of glitchy static made him look down, seeing a portal open, the brief flash of colour from the other side the most he’d seen of the outside world in so long. Error shambled through, the portal flicking shut behind him. Blueberry watched the destroyer stumble over and bring a pile of unfinished crochet down from the ceiling, flopping onto it with a groan.  
“... Error?”  
Error ignored him, curling into the pile of fabric and giving Blueberry a brief glimpse of his tired sockets and a new crack adorning his skull. Clearly whatever he’d been doing had tired him out; Error looked about ready to fall asleep, which Blueberry had never seen him do.  
“Error?” he tried again, this time prompting the destroyer to rise his head from the fabric, expression sleepy and unfocused. A wave of a discoloured hand and Blueberry felt his stiff joints move suddenly, strings coiling around bone, his own hand forcefully clapping over his mouth. Blueberry made a muffled panicked sound as Error slumped back into the fabric. After a while quiet snuffling drifted from the pile, almost as if he was sleeping.  
The strings still held his hand in place, the ache in his arm growing more prominent as time passed, unused to the sudden movement and new position. Attempting to move just made the strings dig into his bones, and he soon gave up.  
Staring down at Error was somewhat grounding. He could see where the floor was now, a few feet below him, and having something besides the endless white was comforting to his eyes. The quiet, wheezy sounds the destroyer made helped to fill the silence.  
Some time had passed when Error moved again, shifting to lie on his side and cast an eye up at Blueberry, who looked back blankly. The glitchy destroyer wiggled his phalanges and the strings slowly lowered Blueberry’s arm back to his side. He hissed, in pain and relief, feeling his arm tingling with pins-and-needles. More strings looped down to coil around him, earning a wary look, though it wasn’t as if Blueberry could do much. Error beckoned and the strings lowered him to almost touching the floor, still in the strings’ control. Blueberry squirmed a little, uncomfortable, then yelped as the strings wrapped around him like a web, binding his arms to his sides and his legs together, his whole body almost immovable. Only then did he get moved to sit on the ‘floor’, Error slowly moving closer from his pile of soft things. Blueberry could barely twitch, barely breathe, feeling the strings around his soul tighten almost unbearably. As Error inched closer Blueberry watched with only his eyelights, seeing the destroyer’s shaky hands reach out, hesitantly resting on Blueberry’s shoulder. Feeling Error’s arms wrap uncertainly around him, brushed with sleeves slightly damp as if from rain and clothes raggedly patched up, Blueberry felt the urge to scream bubble up unbidden - instead he only murmured, “... Error?”  
Any further questioning was silenced by strings that crept around his skull and forced between his teeth. Error bumped his head against Blueberry’s side, the strings loosening ever so slightly, enough that one of Blueberry’s arms could be dragged by strings from the veritable cocoon. Bound almost entirely in threads, Blueberry’s hand was puppeteered to pet the destroyer’s skull as he curled up against Blueberry’s side, strings pulling an unfinished blanket from the pile to bundle around them.


	17. Damaged vocal chords - Error and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Error has been causing problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing, technically kidnapping, violence and injuries  
> Human Error and Human Nightmare

Error lay on the floor of the antivoid, curled into himself tiredly, hair tickling his nose but too tired to flick it away. Soft fabric from failed knitting attempts was acting as a cushion for his head, to soften the indeterminable ‘floor’ of the antivoid. He had expended a lot of magic on destroying today, going to at least three different AUs and tearing them apart; positive, negative, and all in between were torn up into useless, unrecognisable scraps of code. Now worn out he was close to taking a well deserved nap. As Error lay he started to feel exhaustion tugging at his eyes; despite his claims of never sleeping the urge to pass out was almost overwhelming, making his eyelids feel heavy as he squinted sleepily. He was making some effort to stay awake, mostly out of stubbornness, staring into the whiteness with bleary eyes. What was the harm? He’d wake up again in a few hours at most. Finally losing to sleep he went still, eyes sliding shut and letting his head roll onto his shoulder. The last thing he registered was the sensation of falling.

Error jolted awake. Feeling panicked at something waking him, he tried to move and found himself lifted by the neck in a tightening grip, starting to cut off his air. Disorientated, he tried to throw up strings to defend himself, but something broke through them with the ease of sweeping away cobwebs. He jerked and tried to claw himself free only for his fingers to sink into the spongy texture of whatever was holding him and prove useless. His head span as he started to fear he would pass out, movements growing reluctantly slower and heavier.  
Then he was dropped. Error landed heavily on a stone floor, breathing greedily as he rubbed his neck with a hand, feeling it sting like it was starting to bruise. He was weak with sleep and lack of air, but stubbornly started to get off the ground. Something poked his neck and he choked on air, looking around in a frenzy, freezing when his eyes met a cyan eyelight. In front of him was the face of Nightmare, half hidden in his hair, though he could see the other raise an eyebrow at his stare, waving at him with a tendril. Error glared, trying to speak but making himself cough instead. Nightmare seemed to know he was trying to question him, a tendril snaking down and wrapping around his neck, lifting him up even as Error struggled and kicked at Nightmare’s face. Distracted by the grip tightening, Error didn’t listen much when Nightmare started speaking. He glared fiercely as he caught the tail end, though, “I think being annoying is just in your nature.”  
Error garbled something that was probably an insult in return, which Nightmare responded to by throwing him into a wall, a shoulder blade snapping loudly. Error shrieked, choking off as the grip on his neck tightened and slammed him into the floor, knocking the air out of his lungs. The tendril loosened and he wheezed, moving hesitantly, only to stop at the flaring pain in his shoulder. Recollecting himself, Error made another attempt to slice his strings through the other, but was once again easily brushed aside by Nightmare’s tendrils. A hold around his throat became strangling again in response, ruthlessly crushing as Error writhed and tried to pull free, feeling the structure of his neck start to the press inward the smallest amount- he was going to crush his throat _Nightmare was killing him-_  
Then he was dropped back on the ground, wheezing and clawing at the stones as he took a choked breath, still feeling unable to breathe. Someone laughed above him and Error turned his eyes to Nightmare with a squinted glare, the negative guardian unaffected by the hatred in his gaze as a hand reached down and patted Error’s head. Error snarled as much as he was able, shaking his head and trying to yell at the other, but only managing a cracked, wordless hiss as his throat burned. Nightmare gave another pat, then stood and turned his back as if Error were no threat at all, throwing over his shoulder: “If you’d be so kind to stop fucking things up?” before sinking into the shadows, cyan eye full of amusement.


	18. Shaking and shivering - DS Blue and OG Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue has found his friend again, though he seems... different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for nonconsensual touching and technically kidnapping

Blue was walking through Snowdin again. He liked to make a habit of taking walks from time to time, when he wasn’t busy with other business. It was amazing the good that a walk could do; the forest was a beautiful view, the walk let him send a friendly wave to his neighbours and scout the perimeter of the cliff edge, and, like today, let him find any miscellaneous multiverse visitors that wanted to see the stars. Although, this one wasn’t star gazing.  
Blue padded through the snow to stand in front of Error, who was dressed in considerably tattier clothes than usual, and was currently on the edge of unconsciousness. The glitched skeleton was slumped on his side in the snow, shivering despite his thick jacket and scarf. Error’s sockets were half closed and his eyelights were out. A crisp blanket of snow had settled over him from his time outside. He must have lain still for a while: Blue doubted he had the magic to twitch his fingers, nevermind sit up or try to run.  
Of course, it would be simply criminal to leave the poor skeleton out in the snow, slowly freezing to death. Blue knelt and pulled the half-conscious glitch into his arms, hearing a faint whine and feeling the other’s cold radiating as if he was holding a bag of ice. With one hand he rubbed Error’s wrist, where tiny ice crystals clung to the bone, and Error sleepily turned to nuzzle into his warmth.  
He took the freezing skeleton home, and not even Error could deny the mercy of it.

As soon as he had locked the door Blue set about warming Error up. He lit a fire in the grate, shuffled the other out of his damp, snow-covered jacket - he was only wearing a jumper underneath - hugging the glitch to his chest to share his warmth as blankets were wrapped around the both of them, a towel wiping away the melting ice crystals. Soon Error’s violent shivering calmed to trembling, pressing against Blue in his sleep, seeking the other’s heat. Blue hummed happily and gently pet his skull, the discoloured bone feeling like cold stone under his hand.  
After the better part of an hour had passed, Error slowly began to wake.  
Tired red sockets peeled open and Blue got a look at hazy blue and yellow eyelights staring up at him as Error shifted in the blankets, not yet aware of what was going on.  
A blank stare was directed at him before mismatched eyelights softened in recognition.  
“... Blueberry…?” He murmured sleepily. Perhaps the cold had done more damage than Blue realised; the other mumbled his nickname with an almost affectionate tone. Blue reluctantly stopped petting his skull, resting a hand on Error’s shoulder as he snuffled and blinked the sleep from his eyes.  
“I’m here, Error. I missed you.”  
Error hummed softly in reply, fuzzy eyelights trailing up to look around the room before his sockets slipped closed again. He forced them back open but his exhaustion was evident.  
“What happened…?” came a staticky mumble.  
“Someone had left you all alone out in the cold, I brought you in before you could freeze to death…” Error began to shift, so Blue gently slid his hands to lace across the other’s back, keeping him in his lap. “You’re lucky I was taking a walk today.”  
“You… you aren’t him…”  
Error didn’t seem to hear him, staring up with shrinking eyelights as his squirming became more desperate, making a series of glitchy beeps in distress. “Let… Let go of me…!”  
“I wish I could, but I can’t. You’ll attack me if I let go. Just stay still, Error.”  
Error didn’t listen, pawing at his arms and letting out a whine when Blue ensnared his wrists.  
“No- No!” Error shoved at him, managing to unbalance himself and fall onto the floor, strings leaping from his fingertips to spin around Blue’s neck and dive down to capture his soul. Blue tried to speak, but the strings were too tight for his voice to get through, too tight for him to breathe. Bound still, Blue watched mutely as Error tried to sit up, but fell back down as his frostbitten magic stung sharply. Error turned his face to stare up at Blue, face drawn tight with confusion. Glitches speckled his skull, prompting small winces and flinches where they drifted near his eyes, eyelights almost fuzzing out, then he blinked once, twice, eyelights focusing on him again.  
Slowly, reluctantly, the strings loosened and Blue gasped sharply, breathing in relief. Moments later his expression smoothed over.  
“See? I said you would attack me. I wish you wouldn’t prove me right.”  
Error retreated into the neck of his jumper, hunching into himself. “I’m sorry...”  
“Look at you, poor thing, you’re still shaking with cold. Come back under the blankets.” Blue opened his arms in invitation as Error shied away. “I... don’t want to, you’ll be touching me again.”  
“It’s only a little bit of touching. It’s more important that you get warm.”  
Error hid his face in the hem of the blankets.  
“Come here. Come and get warm, and I will forgive you.”  
A long pause, then a murmur, “... Okay...”  
Error slowly, hesitantly crawled forwards, letting Blue pull him into a hug. The blankets that had been disturbed by Error’s struggles were pulled up around them again, keeping them warm and binding them together in a cocoon of blankets. Error’s shoulders shook as Blue pulled him closer. A hand rubbed over the glitching black skull. “There, isn’t that better?”  
When Error didn’t answer, he slid a hand under his chin and tilted his head up. “Isn’t it?”  
“Mhm…” Error looked away. Blue traced the tear tracks down Error’s face and wondered if it was his imagination that the string marks looked different.  
“I do wonder why you were out in the snow like that... Is everything alright with Nightmare and Cross?”  
“Them? Why would I care about them?” Error’s expression twisted into a confused frown. Blue stilled. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting, but then, all of Error’s behaviour had been slightly… off. He resumed petting the other’s skull and couldn’t suppress a smile when Error closed his sockets and didn’t pull away.  
“Why indeed? Nevermind then... I’m just happy you’ve come home. I’ve missed you terribly since you left me.”  
There was a heavy silence, which Error filled with a muffled, uncertain murmur, “...I’m sorry...?”  
Blue offered him a sweet smile, eyelights glowing warmly. Error seemed to relax a little. Whatever it was that had changed in Error, he would find and get to the truth of it. “The important thing is that you’re back. With me.”


	19. Slammed into a wall - Dream and Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream hasn't been seen for a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence

Dream hadn’t been around for a few days now, which in their way of life, never amounted to anything good.  
Ink drew the line at him being MIA for a _week_ and arrived at Dream’s house uninvited, privacy be damned (not like he usually had much regard for privacy anyway).  
The house was eerily silent as he snuck in through the back door (which was _unlocked_ , not a good sign, but then again this was Dream and his trusting tendencies...). The surfaces were covered in a fine layer of dust as if Dream hadn’t cleaned in a while, though the kitchen and bathroom were immaculately clear as usual. As Ink scouted the living room he heard the creak of a door from upstairs and froze. Faint shuffling footsteps sounded from above and Ink crept to the staircase, trying to keep his movements light and soundless. He reached the landing in several soft steps and saw no one. One of the doors at the end of the corridor was slightly ajar, so Ink drifted towards it, footfalls muffled by the faded carpet. His hand touched the wood as he tried to push the door without creaking-  
A door to his side exploded open and something charged at him from hiding, slamming him backwards into the wall with fury. Ink shrieked in surprise, head ringing, reaching up to fend off his attacker, but firm hands closed around his wrists and Ink quickly recognised Dream’s face hovering over him. Dream panted a little as he stepped back, letting Ink’s feet touch the ground.  
“Ink! You startled me!”  
Ink spluttered in protest. “You slammed me into a wall!”  
“I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here anyway?” Ink huffed and changed the line of conversation.  
“You’ve been missing for a _week_ , Dream. Didn’t call or anything! Just dropped off the radar!” The artist tried to subtly withdraw his hands, but Dream’s grip was like steel and almost painfully tight. He looked from the hands clasped around his to Dream’s bashful smile, then reluctantly stopped trying to pull free, Dream’s thumbs rubbing circles in his wrists.  
“Aw, you were worried about me!” Ink’s very mature response was to stick out his tongue. Dream snickered. “You can’t have been _that_ worried, you didn’t even bring backup.”  
“I didn’t need it...” Ink groused, looking away. With a chastising shake of his head, Dream continued, “Gosh, has it been a week already? I’m so sorry! I must have lost track of time!” Dream’s grin widened as he tugged Ink away from the wall, golden eyelights watching him brightly, leading him towards the half-open door. “I’ve been working on something. You might as well see, it’s almost finished now!”  
With undeniable curiosity Ink let himself be led forwards, one of Dream’s hands releasing his to swing the door open. It creaked heavily on thick hinges and revealed a room so dark that Ink had to lean forwards and squint to make out the faint shape of a table. The room looked practically dismal. Was this Dream’s idea of a renovation?  
An arm twined around his waist and before Ink could question it, he felt a sharp pinching pain at the back of his neck, knees giving out abruptly as things went fuzzy. Something caught him before he hit the ground, hearing a sigh and feeling himself being lifted, then heard and felt nothing more.


	20. Surrender - DINTIS Blueberry, Dream, and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is faced with his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence and implied abusive relationships

It was late, late enough that he should probably be asleep, but sleep wouldn’t come to him. Not too long before, he had been talking in the library with Nightmare, but his brother had something important to do and asked not to be interrupted, to which Dream complied.  
He was tired but couldn’t relax, like a spring wound too tight, so rather than go back to Nightmare’s room - their room - he wandered the corridors alone. Although Nightmare allowed him to leave their room now, walking the halls without his brother made him feel... vulnerable, afraid of the twisting shadows and the hidden residents that Nightmare employed. Dream muffled his footsteps as best he could out of nervousness, finding his way to a balcony that led him a little ways out of the closed stone walls.  
The sky was clouded over and the air smelt of rain, but Dream could see the moon through a break in the clouds and smiled tentatively, resting lightly on the railing. A sigh left him as he felt some tension fade, sleep catching up with him now. Dream fought to keep his eyes open, staring down at the forest that surrounded the castle, feeling the cold wind bite into his bones. A part of him whispered a familiar, lingering doubt - had Nightmare sent him away because his brother was tired of him...?  
“Dream!” a voice hissed before he could muse further. Dream startled, looking around wildly, before bending sharply over the balcony to stare down into blue eyelights. Standing below the balcony a familiar face met his gaze, like an old ghost come back to haunt him. Dream felt frozen in place, struck silent.  
“Thank the stars I found you!”  
Blueberry jumped, nimbly climbed the iron hangings, then hurdled the railing to land in from of Dream, who shied away from his outstretched hand.  
“Wait! I just want to talk!” Blueberry pleaded, fearing Dream might turn and run.  
“... What do you want?” He near-whispered, steadying himself on the doorway, eyes fixed on Blueberry - emotions in conflict between joy and fright, anger and relief. Blueberry eyed Dream critically. Perhaps he saw something he disliked; the darker clothes, the thin bones, the haunting eyes that bled from gold to blue. His expression was tight and his airs spoke of unhappiness and unease. “Stars, what has he done to you...”  
“He loves me, Blue... I don’t expect you to understand...”  
Blueberry moved forwards, only stopping when Dream cringed away from him.  
“It isn’t love, Dream!” he hissed, reaching out and catching Dream’s hand, holding it in his. Flinching and trying to pull away only made him hold tighter.   
“I can’t bear to see you like this! You don’t even see what’s happened to you...” Dream was gently pulled away from the doorframe, staring shakily into Blueberry’s eyelights like he was the frightening one. “Come home, Dream. Please... We’ll fix all of this.”  
“No!”  
Wrenching his hand free Dream took off running, hearing an exclamation and footsteps racing in pursuit, which only inspired him to run faster. In his panic all he could think of was finding Nightmare, feeling tears prick his sockets as Blueberry narrowed the distance between them - had he always been the faster one?  
Dream felt panic pressing on his ribcage, felt sparks of pain in his legs as he ran and skidded around corners, but he couldn’t slow down for a moment. If Blueberry caught him he would be forced from his home, taken away from his brother!  
The library door was closed and it cost him precious seconds to wrangle it open, but he barely slowed as he burst into the room and flung himself at Nightmare, who turned and caught him with inky tendrils. Dream shuddered as he felt the burn of corruption all around him, but he still clung to his brother with desperation, burying his face in his chest.  
“Dream? Now what’s upset you?” Dream didn’t have a chance to answer before Blueberry ran into the library, stopping dead in his tracks as his eyes landed on Nightmare.  
“... Oh. I _see_.” Dream closed his eyes tight as he heard the sound of trickling oil as his brother held him close, a choked gasp coming from the doorway. His shaking and sobbing started to calm as he looked up to see that Nightmare’s familiar skeleton form had returned, cyan eyelights fixed on the sight behind him. Uncertainly, Dream turned so he could look at Blueberry, shuddering at the long, sharp tendrils that arced from his brother’s back. They coiled around in the air like lazy snakes, several circling around Blueberry with sharp points at the tips as the skeleton held a hand to his throat, while another tendril held the door closed.  
Nightmare laughed, dark and resonating, and Dream pressed himself closer. He saw Blueberry flinch as a tendril swerved and prodded his cheekbone. “So you thought you could come and steal my precious one from me, did you?” Dream made a soft sound and nuzzled into Nightmare’s chest, trying to reassure that he would never let that happen. He was ignored. Nightmare continued to glare down at Blueberry with icy eyes as the Sans shook in his place.  
“I think you had better surrender now... It would be very, _very_ foolish of you to run...” Blueberry shrunk back a step. More tendrils prodded him, then latched onto him with a loud sound of bone snapping under the strain as Blueberry shrieked, forced to his knees. “Well?” Blueberry whined as tendrils curled up his face, shakily forcing out a “I surrender...”  
Nightmare’s tentacles squeezed and Blueberry yelped in pain, trying in vain to squirm free, his bones creaking. “ _I can’t hear you_.”  
Dream turned his head into Nightmare’s shoulder, not wanting to see more, but he still heard the frantic “I surrender-! I surrender- Please I surrender-!” and the trickling of oil as the sounds were muffled. One eye cracked open a little to see that Blueberry was still wrapped in tendrils, silenced by several that slipped over his mouth.  
“Much better.” A hand took his chin and Dream’s face was turned away, tilted to look up at Nightmare, who pressed a kiss to his mouth. Nightmare stroked his face with a hand, smiling as Dream nuzzled his palm, looking exhausted as the panic began to slowly die down. “Did he upset you, dearest? I’ll make sure he doesn’t again...”  
“Please don’t hurt him...” Dream murmured before he could stop himself, flinching and looking away when the cyan eyes sharpened. “Please, brother...”  
A hand pet his skull and Dream closed his eyes.  
“... Hmm… He has already tried to take you from me once, who is to say he wouldn’t again?”  
“He wouldn’t- He’s not a threat to you- Please…”  
Nightmare hummed consideringly, silent for a few moments. Then he smiled and kissed his forehead.  
“My little one shall have his way. But you are not to visit him, Dream, not to even _see_ him, do you understand?”  
Dream clung to him, choking on a sob as he rambled barely comprehensible ‘thank-you’s into his shoulder. Nightmare ran a hand over his skull as the inky corruption moved, and Blueberry disappeared through the darkness. “There, he’s gone now, safe and sound.”  
Arms wrapped around him and Dream sniffled quietly as he pressed closer. “Thank you...” he looked up, blushing faded yellow as Nightmare planted another kiss on his teeth. “I love you...”  
“I know. I do this all for you, my sweetest possession.”


	21. Bound and gagged - Dream and Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Slammed into a wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence and forced drugging

Ink woke up to darkness. It was cold and the air was stuffy, the only light coming from behind a curtain, which seemed to cover a small barred window. He groaned and tried to move, suddenly becoming aware of the bindings tied around him much too tight, realising how much his bones actually _ached_.  
Especially the back of his neck.  
That thought tugged at his memory, and Ink squinted into the darkness in an attempt to remember. A bit of uncomfortable wriggling in the binds told him that he wasn’t tied _down_ to anything, and he started to worm his way across the floor, slowly inching around the table towards the outline of the door. It was agonisingly tedious and Ink’s bones were soon stinging from where he strained the bonds, but he’d rather get a look outside before whoever tied him up came back.  
As if summoned by his thoughts, Ink heard the door unlock with a heavy clunk. Metal screeched as the door swung open, letting in light from a considerably brighter corridor, then closed again before he could really distinguish the figure in the doorway. Footsteps tapped towards him across the tiled floor.  
A quiet voice murmured: “Ink?”  
 _“Dream?”_  
Hearing Dream’s voice brought back the memories eluding him and Ink tried unsuccessfully to sit up. Wasn’t this Dream’s fault...?  
“Oh thank stars, you’re awake.” More footsteps, then arms wrapped around him, picking him up with ease. From within his cocoon of bindings Ink could do nothing but give Dream a displeased frown. “What the hell, Dream?”  
He was shifted in Dream’s arms and a hand patted his head, still held in a firm grip, then he felt himself being set on the table.  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough. You’ve been out for a day and a half; how do you feel?” Ink frowned as Dream continued petting his skull, calmly acting as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.  
“No seriously, what the hell are you doing.”  
The dim light made it hard to see, but Ink could make out the faint guilty grimace on Dream’s face as his eyelights flicked to the side.   
“It’s a little complicated to explain, especially to you...” a hand traced his jaw almost affectionately as golden eyelights met his. “I need you to understand, we’re still friends, but I’m very upset with you. I have been for a while. I know you’ve been using me, Ink. Selfishly, for my aura, for your image... I just couldn’t do it anymore.”  
“I-”  
“Don’t bother trying to deny it.” Dream interrupted, huffing as he pulled away, turning and walking back a few paces to rummage in the drawers. “I know it’s true.”  
If Ink could, he would have shrugged. As it was, he just tilted his head against the table so he could watch Dream pull a long scrap of fabric out of a drawer, which he tucked into his glove, out of the way.  
“Okay yeah, I do. But why am I tied up?”  
Another sigh as Dream returned to his side. He seemed almost disappointed, though unsurprised.  
“You don’t have to sound so flippant about it. It hurts, Ink...”  
“Not like I can feel sad about it.” Ink muttered, noticing that his question was unanswered. Dream gave an exasperated laugh, nodding. “You can’t feel sad about anything. You can’t even feel guilt of knowing that you manipulated my trust, at least not without your paint. You won’t even learn from your actions, because you have no emotions that would make you _want_ to change.” He paused, looking at his hands as if in thought, then golden eyelights were again staring at him, somewhat apologetic. “Oh! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to rant. Then again,” Dream giggled to himself, “I suppose you’re not going anywhere.” He looked thoughtful again, sockets sadly tugged down at the corners. “All those years I spent fighting by your side, and you didn’t feel a thing…”  
Ink rolled his eyes. “Yes yes, I’m such a terrible heartless creature, blah blah. You’re not telling me anything new here, Dream.”  
“I know. I’m disappointed, but I shouldn’t have expected much. And I won’t allow this to continue. I _can’t_ let you continue, Ink.” Ink could’ve sworn Dream’s eyelights glowed brighter as a hand slid down Ink’s face, cupping his cheek, thumb poking the corner of his mouth. Ink shifted his head and chewed the gloved thumb to show his disapproval.  
“Fortunately, I have plenty of time, and a fairly simple solution.”  
He wasn't entirely sure what Dream was doing as he reached for the artist’s sash, but when he pulled a vial free Ink quickly put it together, catching sight of the bottle of fear-inducing paint. He tried to worm his way off the table but found his head pressed back down firmly.  
With one hand keeping his jaw pried open, the other popped the top off the vial and Dream let some paint trickle into Ink’s mouth. Ink made a disgruntled noise and bit down sharply on Dream’s thumb, as hard as he could manage. There was a hiss and the contents of the vial emptied all at once, a hand clapping over his mouth before Ink could spit it out, thrashing around in protest. The hand was replaced with cloth that was stuffed between his teeth and tied behind his skull, tight enough to dig into the crook of his jaw. Ink gargled and coughed as he tried to shake off the gag and get rid of the paint. There was a sigh, then a strong grip lifted and slammed his skull down into the metal table with a resounding bang. Blinking hazily, Ink choked on the colour.  
The effect was immediate, his eyelights shrinking to pinpricks and an uncontrollable shiver taking over him - panic made his thoughts fuzzy as he struggled to breathe around the gag and too-tight binds, eyelights rolling around and blurring the shape of Dream’s face above him. The grip on him was gone and Ink writhed until he toppled off the table with a painful thud, wheezing heavily into the cloth, trying his hardest to wriggle himself away into a corner. Footsteps across the tiles only fuelled his spiking panic.  
“I hate to do this, Ink. This hurts me too, you know.” a voice floated down from somewhere above him, and Ink screamed into the gag as he felt a touch on his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. But you’re never going to learn otherwise.”


	22. Backhand slap - DS Dream and DS Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream searches for Ink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence

Dream stormed down the corridors to the background wail of alarms, bursting into the prison block to find guards already running to and fro in a panic. As he feared, by the time he’d reached the cell he was too late; Nightmare was long gone.  
Dream hissed in irate defeat. Of all days! Just as the fate-splitting machine was finally finished, he chose _now_ to escape!  
Quickly following the burst of frustration was worry - Ink had been supposed to be guarding Nightmare, hadn’t he? Where was he?  
Looking up and down the prison cells showed no sign of the soulless skeleton. He wouldn’t put it past Nightmare to steal his assistant, and Dream quickly notified a guard and set off looking for Ink.  
Racing through the corridors quickly brought him to his quarry. Ink was slumped against the side of a corridor near the prison block, seemingly unconscious. Dream crouched beside him. A critical look showed no immediate injuries, his skull wasn’t even bruised as it might be if he were knocked out, so Dream set a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. Fuzzy and unfocused eyelights slid around until they landed on him.  
“Ink.”  
“Boss...?”  
“What are you doing here? What happened?” If concern bled into his tone, Ink didn’t seem to notice.  
“Fell asleep...” Ink yawned.  
“You were _supposed_ to be guarding the cells.” Dream muttered and stood, voice considerably colder, as Ink stretched and stumbled to his feet. “Nightmare escaped.”  
“Mhm... Who cares, we’ll get ‘im next time...” Ink yawned again, not bothering to look at him.  
“ _I_ care!”  
There was a resounding slap of bone against bone and Ink stumbled back against the wall, caught off-guard. His sockets were wide with surprise, eyelights small, before his features smoothed over and melted back into apathy.  
Dream meanwhile was shocked out of his anger, overridden by surprised numbness. He was staring at his hand as if he’d never seen it before.  
He had never hit Ink - never outside of sparring, anyway - and never so angry and unintentional.  
A darkening bruise was already starting to spread across the other’s cheek, definitely large enough to be noticeable. Ink didn’t flinch as Dream reached out and brushed his cheekbone.  
“Sorry.” he murmured next to the other’s skull, a golden trail of magic winding from his fingertips and lightening the mark until it was imperceptible, cupping Ink’s face in his hands. Ink leaned into his touch.  
“‘S fine Boss...” hazy golden eyelights watched the string of healing magic until it sparked out and Dream pulled away. He coughed.  
“We should get to the meeting room. We’ll need to update security measures, again.” He turned and Ink followed obediently, without question.


	23. Blindfolded - DINTIS Blueberry, Dream, and Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blueberry has been put in the cells below the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and abusive relationships  
> Continuation of Surrender

Blueberry woke up with his bones aching, lying on a hard stone floor. He tried to see where he was but all was dark, not even a glimmer of light from a window or far off torch. Unnaturally dark; as he shifted slightly he realised that a cloth had been tied around his eyes, his arms bound behind his back so tightly that they were numb. Attempting to move onto his side caused pain to flare in his wrist and his ribs and he fell briefly still. After a moment Blueberry started to move again, slowly shuffling as he tried to get his legs under him, perhaps he could find a wall to lean against and help him stand... Before Blueberry could begin to feel around the stone room he heard footsteps and sat bolt upright.  
The footsteps were light and slow, echoing through a stone corridor until they tapped to a stop nearby. Blueberry didn’t dare move, barely dared to breathe, not wanting to draw attention to himself even though he felt eyes burning into him. His head twitched from side to side as he tried to pinpoint where the footsteps had stopped, readying for an attack, an insult, anything. Was it Nightmare here already?  
“Blue...?”  
“Dream?!” he hissed, scrambling up to balance on his knees, barely managing to avoid falling over. “Dream is that you?”  
“... Thank stars, I thought- I was afraid he might have...” Dream trailed off, and Blueberry heard shuffling, then a quiet sniffle. “I shouldn’t be down here, I don’t know why I... Please don’t tell him I was here...”  
As the shuffling footsteps drew away Blueberry frantically tried to call him back, struggling to keep his voice a whisper. “Dream! Wait! You can’t leave me down here, you can’t-”  
 _“What are you doing here, Dream.”_ There was a sharp intake of breath and the footsteps scraped to a stop. Blueberry froze as a deathly chill seeped into the room.  
“I-I’m sorry, I just-” Blueberry heard the trickling, oily sound of Nightmare’s corruption and a whimper of fear. “I _told you_ not to come here.”  
“I know- I know- I’m sorry-” From the breathy, panicked tone in Dream’s voice, Blueberry could only imagine the look on the negative king’s face. He shuddered at the thought.  
“If you were sorry you _wouldn’t have done it_.”  
Blueberry flinched as there was a harsh slap of oil against stone like a warning shot, he stiffened at the sound of a muffled sob.  
“Nightmare!” he yelled, trying to get to his feet and distract him from the pitiful sounds Dream was making. There was a pause. Something cold and wet coiled suddenly around his skull and dragged him across the floor, pressing him against hard metal bars as he scrambled and kicked the ground.  
“This miserable thing tried to take you from me, Dream. How could you go against my instructions to see the likes of _him?_ ” The only response was a heart-wrenching sob.  
“How can I trust you when you do this? I ought to kill him for your disobedience...”  
“No! Please, please don’t kill him!”  
Blueberry squirmed and bit at the tendril that covered his mouth, wanting to tell Dream to run, but Nightmare squeezed harder and he stopped for fear of his skull being cracked like an egg, forced to listen to Dream pleading through sobs as he worked himself up into a panic. Nightmare was quiet for a moment.  
“Alright, perhaps I am too harsh... But I am _very_ angry with you, understand?”  
Dream must have nodded, sniffling quietly.  
“Good. Now come back to our room. And if I find you down here again...” Blueberry felt the tendril curl down from his skull, sliding and snaking around his ribs tight enough that he heard them crack, letting out a rasp of pain. “I’ll make sure that he _suffers_ , do you understand?”  
“Y-yes...” The tendril dropped him back on the floor, making Blueberry wheeze, bruised ribs jolting painfully. “Dream...” he croaked and tried to pull himself back to his feet, but his legs were swept out from under him without warning and he crashed back on the stones. Struggling to catch his breath, Blueberry heard the retreating footsteps of the two, still too winded to call after Dream. A door swung closed and the sounds cut off. They were gone. Blueberry slowly moved onto his side to ease his ribs, wracked with concern for the positive guardian in Nightmare’s clutches.


	24. Shock collar - 32 and AI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AI decides new measures must be taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for cursing and electrocution

32 woke up lying, not in bed, but on a cold stone floor that smelt old and damp and was very uncomfortable. This wasn’t his house. Pushing himself up on his hands, he rubbed his face and squinted at the darkness around him, feeling a weight around his neck as he moved. Light came from a wall of the room, intercepted by bars like the side of a prison cell... His sense of dread grew.  
One hand moved up and found that the weight around his neck was some kind of metal collar. 32 grimaced nervously, knowing that it couldn’t mean anything good.  
A shadow moved in the corner of the room and 32 jumped to his feet, startled, watching as the shadow moved to step into the filtered light from the hallway.  
AI. _Him_. Of course.  
“Oh, awake finally? You sleep like the dead. And don’t bother making a fuss, this place is abandoned.”  
32 didn’t say anything as AI eyed him.  
“Then again, I suppose that was a good thing. It would be much harder to escort you if you screamed your head off. If you did I might have had to harm you, which I do so dislike to do.” 32 might have snapped a reply, but he was sidetracked by the other’s rambling.  
“Wh- You kidnapped me?!” he wheezed, stepping back and glaring at the Ink, bracing himself against the wall.  
“Oh don’t be dramatic, it was for the safety of everyone involved.” AI moved closer. “Just think of the danger you put them in, simply by being there. But then, I’ve always known you were selfish, Error.”  
“That’s not my-” he cut himself off as AI moved suddenly closer, standing in front of him, finding he couldn’t move back any further.  
“Hey, back off-!” AI’s hand wrapped around his jaw and muffled what he was trying to say. 32 glared mutely at the other’s amused look, watching his eyelights cycle: a yellow circle, a pink diamond, a red target...  
“I’ve given you more than enough chances. But you just don’t _learn_ , do you?” The hand holding his face gripped hard enough to bruise his jaw and he winced, shaky eyelights fixed on AI. He was grinning, the sociopath.  
“Don’t give me such a look, I would never kill you. That would be besides the point. I just need to fix your behaviour and you’ll be free to go.” AI retracted his hand to pat 32’s head and walk off, leaving the glitch to stare at his back warily. AI looked out between the bars and into the corridor, as if checking it was empty, though he’d already said it was. The lights buzzed in the quiet.  
“I’m not doing whatever the fuck you want me to. I won’t be ‘Error’ for you.”  
AI sighed heavily, as if 32 had said something entirely unreasonable and exhausting. He clicked something in his fingers without looking back.  
A sharp pain crackled down his neck and 32 yelped, grabbing at his throat as the pain sparked then died down.  
“What the hell was-!?”  
“Like I _said_ , your behaviour will need to be corrected. First with stopping this insistence that you are ‘32’.”  
AI turned to look at him consideringly, eyelights fixed for a moment, then moved closer again. 32 was already pressed against the wall, rubbing at the soreness in his neck, nervously glaring up at him.  
“... You’re a sick bastard, you know that?”  
“Must you be so difficult? This is to help you, you know.” AI leaned into his personal space without regard, curling a hand around 32’s face when he cringed away.  
“Like hell it is!”  
“Stubborn, as usual.”  
32 snarled and bit his hand. There was a muttered growl, then AI pulled away. Pain lanced through him again and 32 hissed through clenched teeth. The shock lasted longer this time before shutting off, and he hunched into himself as he tore at the collar, but the metal just stung his fingers.  
“I’m sure you’ll change your way of thinking soon enough.”  
“Fuck you!”  
Electricity sparked down his throat just as sudden as before and he choked, grabbing hold of the wall as his fingers spasmed.  
“Let’s try a test run shall we?” 32 stared blurrily at the ground. “Here’s an easy one. Say, ‘I am Error’.”  
“Go to hell...”  
Another shock, he screeched and struggled to stand, clawing at the hand that steadied him.  
“Go ahead and get your resistance out now. We have plenty of time.”  
32 hissed and tried to squirm away. His bones hurt, his neck felt like it was _burning_.  
“Try again, _Error_.”


	25. Pleading - DS Dream and DS Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare has been captured alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence  
> Final prompt! (not including possible continuations)

Nightmare hated the cells. It was dark, it was cold, and the very air felt heavy with dread like a noose around his neck that he would one day fail to escape. Thank stars for Error and Cross or he might not have gotten out those past times, given the new defences in JR. Sneaking out alone was a lot harder than it used to be.  
He had tried already to slip out of the handcuffs, but they were too tight - way too tight, _unnecessarily_ tight, he doubted he could get them off even if he broke his thumbs - and the entire cell was carved with runes that suppressed his magic, even if he _did_ somehow manage to get the cuffs off.  
Giving up for the time being, Nightmare lay on one side on the cot and let himself rest a bit. It was sometime in the middle of the night and he was tired even if he didn’t dare sleep here. He just had to hope that Cross and Error realised he was gone and could save him soon, or that he could find a way out himself.

Some time later, he heard shuffling and footsteps nearby, and turned on his side. Nightmare assumed it was another prisoner being brought in, but the footsteps came towards his cell. He only had a few moments to sit up and tense before they were unlocking his cell, opening the door, and he launched himself at the first one who entered. The first guard was stunned still for a moment, but the other wasn’t and grabbed at Nightmare before he could make it out the door, picking him up by the back of his shirt as the negative guardian kicked the air. The guards grumbled and with difficulty got a firm hold on him, carrying him out of the cell between them. Nightmare struggled somewhat dejectedly, knowing he had missed his best bet at freedom, and wondered if he was being taken to the lab for the infrequent tests he got when he was captured. But why in the middle of the night? Usually nothing happened until the morning.

The corridors were familiar at first, heading towards the medical facility, but a few turns took them into an area Nightmare had never seen before. He began to feel a knot of unease in his chest despite telling himself everything was going to be fine. Finally they entered a room and Nightmare wished he was back being dragged through corridors; most of the room space was taken up by a huge looming machine, massive gleaming pipes snaking around the corners and two person-sized pods prominently displayed and hooked up. It looked nothing like anything he’d seen in the labs. With growing panic Nightmare kicked at the guards, earning a grunt and a whack to the back of the head, but as they approached one of the pods his struggling became frantic.  
“No! Let me go! You’re not putting me in there!” He had a horrible suspicion what the machine was for. He kicked at the lid of the pod but failed to shatter it, squirmed around like a madman to try and stop the guards from tying his legs down to the board inside, his handcuffed arms hung on a hook above his head despite his efforts, his yelling and protests going ignored. Once his legs were tied down Nightmare was reduced to pulling at the binds and trying to work the handcuffs off the hook, starting to shake. He told himself it was adrenaline. The lid of the pod closed over him and everything outside was muffled, but he could still clearly see the moment Dream walked into the room.  
Golden light tinted the walls and the CEO of JR himself stepped in, wings tightly folded, and started talking to the guards. He didn’t even look in Nightmare’s direction. Nightmare couldn’t make out everything, but he heard something about being unable to follow standard policy and ‘part of a separation procedure’. It felt like the breath was knocked out of him for a moment and he forced himself not to choke on his panic.  
“No no no-! You can’t do this!” He thrashed in the pod, as much as he was able. His shouting gained Dream and the guards’ attention, but his words went unacknowledged. Dream ushered the guards away to stand by the door as a Sans in a lab coat came in. Nightmare shouted as Dream approached the other pod, “Dream no don’t- Please don’t! _Dream!_ ”  
He saw Dream flinch as he hesitated to open the pod. The Sans did it for him. Nightmare felt panic well up inside him; he didn’t want to die.  
“Nono Dream brother please don’t _please!_ I don’t want to die! Please mercy!” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but he hardly registered it, writhing in place like a man possessed. His pleading and crying went ultimately unheeded. Before he could say any more Dream turned his face away, disappeared inside the pod and the Sans went to a control panel. Nightmare felt like he was hyperventilating, unable to scream from the words and sobs clogging his throat.  
The Sans pushed a button. Within moments he felt pain lance through him like fire and heard them both scream.

Consciousness came back to him fuzzily, stirring faintly as he felt his legs being untied. Everything ached and burned unpleasantly. His magic was out of sorts and battered, weak and worn out, feeling… different.  
There was movement and his hands were brought down gently and he was being lifted, held. He felt warmth. He’d expected pain and fear and discomfort, not warmth. Something wet stung his cheeks and a hand lightly wiped it off, rubbing a circle on his cheekbone before disappearing. Voices murmured but they were speaking too quiet for him to make out in his half aware state, he only shifted and clung to the warmth holding him, cracking open sleepy eyesockets to get a look around. He saw bright yellow and orange and grumbled, burying his head into the soft, bright fabric as he closed his eyes again. The brightness was too much, almost headache inducing, and he’d rather go back to sleep. Something important lingered in the back of his mind, like a heavy weight, but it wasn’t enough to bring him back to full awareness; instead he lay in someone’s arms and felt himself being jostled slightly as they walked, an echo of footsteps reaching him, a gentle touch ghosting over his face. And there was quiet, sorrowful whispering that he couldn’t decipher, and the faintest impression of a kiss left on his forehead.


	26. Locked in a cage continuation - DS Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream gets out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for implied kidnapping, swearing, mild violence, and drugging

For a long period after the magic suppressors were turned up Dream was barely able to move. Time was, admittedly, hard to keep a grasp of. His bones ached heavily and his hand still stung; the meagre amount of magic he was afforded was strained between keeping his eyelights lit and keeping his joints mobile, and it took hours - or at least he guessed it was hours, but with the lack of windows or sunlight there was no real means to tell the time - for him to adjust to even be able to move without accidentally putting his eyelights out. In the process he must have passed out, despite how fervently he’d tried to stay conscious, because he jerked awake some time later and looked around wild-eyed before remembering where he was.  
The suffocating weight of the magic suppressors and the drug in his system was weighing him down and urging him to sleep again, but Dream fought to keep his eyes open, knowing he needed to keep track of what was going on in this place. Sleep was something he couldn’t afford to give in to. He tried not to dwell on the feeling of time running out.  
Once he was able to move without wincing, Dream started to investigate the cage further, not knowing how much time he may have left before a guard came to check on him again. And next time, it may be to deliver him to their contractor.  
The cage mesh didn’t seem to have any particularly weak areas, the thick metal wire was woven tightly together, barely wide enough to fit his fingers through the gaps. His hands found a section at the bottom that seemed to be on hinges, some kind of slot. It seemed to be latched shut, and even if he could open it, the hatch was too narrow to even fit his arm through. Back to square one. When he tested the walls it seemed to be reinforced along the sides, only succeeding in making a loud rattling sound that had him freezing stiff and listening into the dark. For a long moment there was silence. Dream held his breath, sharply aware of the guards, who could be just outside.  
Perhaps no one had heard?  
As if to spite him, the hush was broken by footsteps in the corridor, heading towards the room. Someone _had_ heard him.  
The door opened and Dream heard scampering footsteps across the floor, scraping to a stop near the cage. The movements were light, scratching along the floor, sounding completely unlike the guard from before. For a brief moment he caught sight of eyelights through the mesh meeting his, red with a dot of cyan in each, before a bright light shone in his face and Dream recoiled with a hiss. One hand jerked up to shield his eyes and he heard a snicker, squinting between his fingers as the torchlight moved.  
“You're up bright and early, fuckface.”  
The voice was thick with distaste, higher and possibly younger than the last time, a different guard for certain. Dream gritted his teeth and squinted as the other flashed the light in his face irritatingly. Early? Was it morning?  
His voice was raspy from the strain of his magic, far quieter than he would have liked, “I presume you are here to check on me-?”  
“Yer being loud!” The guard declared, more or less in answer. The torch swung and there was a near deafening clatter as it hit the cage, making Dream jerk back instinctively. In the moment of quiet that followed he heard the other dart off, slipping back through the door into a better lit corridor, the door closing and sending him back into darkness. Well, so much for getting any answers from that one. Dream waited a long moment, then reluctantly let himself slide back to his cramped position on the floor, one hand rising to feel over the walls of the cage once more.  
-  
“Food, bitch!”  
Dream jolted as the door snapped open again, golden eyelights fixing on the small figure that scurried into the room, with a brief pause to kick the door shut and click on the torch. It was the same guard, voice high pitched and slightly manic. The footsteps stopped in front of the cage and Dream saw the curve of a plate being set on the floor in the torchlight. He heard the latch being drawn back.  
Dream scowled and shook his head firmly, blocking his knuckles in front of the slot as it rattled open. Food might boost his magic for a short while, but it was definitely drugged and he couldn’t afford to fall unconscious again, nor could he let his mind be addled. He pushed the plate back through the slot with a scrape. Red-cyan eyelights narrowed, and the other twisted back to face the door.  
_“Randy!”_  
For a moment there was silence.  
Then, loud footsteps started moving in the corridor, a heavy tread thudding towards the room. The guard turned back and from the way the torch was angled, Dream could just about make out a mad grin stretched across a skeleton face. Then the door was slammed open and Dream jumped at the loudness, seeing a tall, heavy built silhouette in the doorway that lumbered into the room, standing close to where the other guard was still crouched by the cage. The newcomer was as tall as Dream himself, if not taller, and a single red eyelight glared down from where the other’s face was in the shadows. “Bobby? Trouble?”  
‘Bobby’ nodded enthusiastically and jabbed a finger at the cage, making it rattle. “Fucker won’t eat.”  
“Oh.”  
There was a pause. Then a click, and an unpleasant screech of metal that had Dream flinching back as the mesh was pulled up. In a brief moment he realised this was his chance to escape and launched forwards, scrabbling at a cold floor as he got free of mesh. Dream barely had his feet under him before he was tackled back down, strong hands pressing him down onto his front, barely moving even as Dream kicked and twisted. He struggled, attempting to respark his magic, but the suppressors had worn it thin. The sudden movement after days cooped up had his joints twinging, feeling a miserable burning through his bones. His eyelights flickered and went out. Magic still painfully sputtering, he was pushed into the ground and his head turned to the side, hearing grumbling from the two.  
A small hand slapped his face, and Dream made a near-animal sound as his jaw was pried open and soft, magic-laden food crammed in. Pressed firmly to the floor he writhed and choked it down without much choice.  
“Fucking drama queen.”  
There was a rumble of agreement from ‘Randy’, then a large hand grasped the back of his neck and he was picked off the floor, given hardly a moment to struggle before being crammed back into the cage, the door slamming down and clipping his fingers where they clung to the edge. Drawing his hands back with a hiss, Dream falteringly relit his eyelights, feeling them waver under the weight of the suppressor affecting his magic once more. He heard heavy footsteps tread back to the doorway, while the other guard lingered for a moment.  
“Hope yer owner cuts ya up for parts!” he snapped, then off he went, following the other and disappearing back into the corridor.  
Dream did his best to ignore the parting words, focusing on his current state rather than get lost in worry about his possible future.  
He didn’t feel the effects immediately, slowly sinking back into his uncomfortable, curled position, but he was certain the food had been drugged. Wary of rattling the walls too loudly, his hands explored the sides of the cage, hoping to find a weakness he could have somehow overlooked. He found none.  
After a few minutes of lying in the dark Dream already felt fuzziness numb his thoughts, his sockets dropping and expression smoothing, but he shook his head and tried to keep himself awake. The drug was setting in already. His breathing was heavy, and Dream felt his eyelights unfocus as his vision blurred a little. His bones grew heavy and stiff, his head dropping and hand sliding to rest on the floor of the cage, curling his fingers absently. He counted his breaths, the only part of his still moving, trying to distract himself. There was a daunting inevitability looming over him.  
-  
Silence.  
His thoughts faded in and out. His breathing was heavy and laboured, his ribs resisting movement, the rest of his body having gone numb a while ago.  
Some time later there were quiet, tapping footsteps that crept closer, the soft sound reaching him in a daze. Dream was unsure how long he had simply been staring hazily at the cage walls. Groggily dragging himself back to awareness, Dream turned his splintered eyelights towards the door, hearing the sounds shuffle, then die out. Had he imagined that...?  
It had been so quiet, it could have been his mind playing tricks on him, or it could be a result of the drug. Stars pray he hadn’t been given hallucinogens…  
No, wait, there was the door, cracking open ever so slightly as a figure slipped through, leaving the door ajar and letting a sliver of light inside. Muffled footsteps came towards him and Dream felt himself tense a little despite his hazy state. Another guard? Was he being transferred? ... Or was this mysterious contractor here to check their ‘goods’?  
There was stifled movement in front of him, and someone whispered close to the cage, “Dream.”  
The voice was somewhat familiar yet hard to place. Caught off-guard - though, it made sense his kidnappers would know his name, of course - Dream didn’t reply, listening intently, but the other had fallen silent again. Instead there was a jangle of a lock in front of him, then click, click, click… A pause.  
With a slow scrape, the mesh was pulled up and a hand wrapped around his arm, dragging him out of the cage. Body unresponsive, Dream fell to his knees and would have sprawled in the floor if not for the grip on his arm. Whether or not he wanted to accept the ‘guidance’, Dream was struggling to breathe and his bones felt like lead, unable to do much about the stranger helping him to his feet and more or less holding him up. Disorientated, he wavered as his legs tried to give out under him again, clinging tightly to whoever was keeping him upright, much as he hated to. His vision swam and splotched dizzyingly.  
“Let’s get you out of here, hm? Kindly follow me...” a voice murmured to the side of his skull, though he barely heard it. Faintly familiar eyelights caught gold as Dream looked up, then he was hauled forwards, hanging off the other’s side like a ragdoll. His - surely it wasn’t a guard? But surely not a rescuer, either? - his dubious aide just shouldered his weight and helped Dream to the door, despite the spinning dizziness of his sight and his uncooperative limbs. Dream tried his best not to fall; trying to keep his footsteps light while he leant on the other, mimicking the stranger’s quiet footsteps. He only vaguely registered walking down the corridor.  
The lights flickered overhead, dim and buzzing, then darkness and cold wind met him as they crossed a threshold into cooler air, feeling uneven ground at his feet as he was almost carried along. He blinked into the deeper darkness, appreciating the sharpness of the cold wind on his face. He saw hazy shapes all around them. The person holding him muttered something low that Dream didn’t make out, his skull filled with static. Dream was distracted by the feeling of his eyelights fuzzing, vanishing into fragments, sockets closing despite his attempts to keep them open. He was vaguely aware of falling into someone as darkness ate up his vision.


	27. Locked in a cage continuation (pt.2) - DS Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream has been freed, but he's not out of the woods yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for drugging and manipulation

Dream awoke slowly, feeling… warm. Warm and comfortable.  
As he came back to himself Dream found that he was lain out on something soft, something which gave under his weight, a blanket tucked securely up around his shoulders. In his slow, shapeless stream of thoughts, he wanted to go back to sleep. Only the faint prickling of unease made him resist, reluctantly keeping his mind from sinking back into unconsciousness. Not until he was safe.  
Dream cracked open his sockets just a little and coaxed his eyelights to phase into existence, bringing him the image of a bedroom, warmly lit by a flickering fireplace on the far wall. The dim glow filled the whole room, and as Dream scanned what little he could see without moving his head, he knew for certain that he had never been in this place before. This was nowhere in JR, nor was it the house of any of his allies. The bland decorations gave no hint to the AU he was in, and the lack of windows likewise left him guessing as to the outside.  
He barely remembered last night - or however many nights ago it may have been - but he knew someone had taken him out of the cage, down the corridors, outside… So perhaps the stranger had been saving him after all. In which case, this must be their house, and maybe soon Dream could get some answers.  
Eyelights wavering a little, Dream closed his sockets. He was still so tired… His bones ached with a soul-deep heaviness. Dream could feel a familiar tingling across his back, telling him his wings were close to reforming, but he must not have enough magic to manage it yet. It couldn’t have been long since he got out. The drug may still be in his system - that would be why his head was so heavy, and his thoughts moved so slowly.   
There was a resounding click through the room, and his eyes snapped open again. The door at the end of the room swung open, and a familiar figure leaned around the doorway, carrying two mugs.  
“Good morning!” Blue chirped, making his way to the side of the bed, setting the mugs on the bedside table. Dream stared at him. Blue didn’t seem to mind, sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Here, let me help you up.”  
“What are you doing? Why am I here?” Dream hissed. Stars, his voice was frail. He could barely muster indignation in his tone.  
“I doubt that you can sit up on your own.” Blue continued, reaching for Dream’s shoulders, lifting him to sit up against the pillows. As Dream leaned back, he realised Blue was probably right. He could barely move.  
“Here.” A mug was settled into his hands, and Blue sipped from his own mug. Dream stared down at what looked like tea, but made no move to drink it. He doubted his arms could lift the mug without spilling it, anyway.  
“... Why am I here?” he asked again.  
“Do you remember what happened?” Blue asked. After a moment, Dream nodded. He remembered enough. Blue leaned closer, lowering his voice secretively. “I tracked down where you had been stolen away to. I broke you out.” Dream squinted at him suspiciously. In return, Blue smiled. “I was worried when you passed out. But you’re safe now.”  
“Safe?”  
“Of course! This house is tucked away, and no one else knows where you are. You’re safe here.”  
Dream grumbled faintly, distrustful, but he supposed he could bear Blue’s company until his magic was restored. The other wasn’t inherently dangerous from what he knew, just disruptive and unerringly good at sneaking into places he shouldn’t. He certainly wouldn’t be a match for Dream when his strength returned.  
“How do you feel?” Blue asked, when Dream stayed quiet.  
“... Tired.” he admitted, after a moment. There wasn’t much use in lying.  
“Unsurprising, really. Drink your tea, it’s infused with magic.”  
Blue cupped his hands around Dream’s, helping him bring the mug to his teeth. Though loathe to let himself be handled like a sick child, protesting would really just be more embarrassing, especially in his weakened state. He took a sip. It was sweet, and Dream recognised the taste of golden flower tea as well as the faint buzz of magic, drinking more. He sighed as he felt his wings start to form, still intangible and glass-like, but at least returning. Blue set the empty mug on the table.  
“Feel better? I’ll get you some food.”  
Dream watched him leave, and narrowed his eyes when he heard a lock click shut. Concerning. Blue had managed to make him uneasy without even doing anything, as was his usual way. But at least he wasn’t blatantly antagonistic.  
Listening to the cracking of the fire, Dream sighed breathily. It was only a temporary arrangement. Soon he would go back to JR, and sort out this mess, although he didn’t look forward to catching up on his paperwork. Just thinking about it made him tired.  
His wings reforming was a good sign, even though the unintentional use of magic had made him understandably dizzy, and he let his sockets close to soothe his building headache. Some food would do him good, and hopefully help shake off the effects of exhaustion…  
He was asleep before Blue returned.

The next time he woke, he felt far too warm, struggling to push away the soft blanket, which had been pulled up high around his shoulders at some point. His head was killing him, and Dream pressed his face sideways into a pillow, huffing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and it certainly didn’t seem to have done him any good. His bones _ached_. Spying the fireplace on the far wall, Dream wondered if it was why the room was so hot, starting to twist onto his side. It was unlikely that he could walk across the room, but he was seriously considering an attempt if it would ease his discomfort. Before he could make the decision, the door gave a click, and swung open. Blue’s indistinct figure appeared and walked over to him. Dream felt hands grip his arms and turn him back onto the bed, and bit back a whine as the covers were pulled up over him again, stifling him with heat. “You need to stay warm, Dream.”  
Dream made an inarticulate sound of disagreement.  
“I’m not surprised you got sick, with what your body has been through.” Sick? Yes, perhaps that made sense, and explained the raging headache and achiness.  
“How long was I asleep…?” he mumbled blearily, sliding his eyelights towards Blue. A cold cloth was pressed against his forehead.  
“Not long.”  
The cool dampness was pleasantly soothing to his headache, and Dream let himself relax back into the pillows a little as Blue puttered around, making vague murmurings.  
“Luckily for you I had some medicine in my cabinet…” a spoon of said liquid was offered to him, and Dream begrudgingly swallowed it, to no immediate effect. How typical, he couldn’t remember the last time he was ill, and now when he needed his strength a common cold snuck up on him.  
A huffed laugh came from beside him, and a hand lightly touched Dream’s face, as if testing his temperature. “You’re burning up,” Blue hummed.  
 _‘I could have told you that,’_ Dream thought, brow scrunching in irritation, though his mouth felt a little too stiff to articulate it. “The medicine should help with that.”  
Hopefully, it would. Dream wanted to banish this insistent headache as soon as possible. Another pat to his skull and he felt Blue shift off the bed, footsteps tapping away. The door clicked, and Dream was left alone in the room, with his own near-incoherent thoughts. He’d forgotten to ask Blue to douse the fire. Of course, as soon as he acknowledged the thought, his bones clamoured to let him know that they were, in fact, _burning_ , and would not be ignored. And although the cold rag on his forehead was helping, his headache uncooperatively pulsed to remind him that his body had apparently turned against him. He felt achy and unpleasant all around. Even his wings were twitching uncomfortably, the feathers rustling together in a half-tangible way, drawing on his magic.  
Time passed unbearably slowly. For all he knew it had been minutes, or hours, as there were no windows or clocks to help him keep track. It was almost like he was back to being stuck in a cage, except the bed was comfortable and let him stretch out his legs, and the fireplace kept it warmly lit, and there wasn’t a looming threat of death or enslavement. If only he wasn’t ill he might appreciate it.   
The medicine Blue had given him must have kicked in, because it was a little easier to think, and he felt a drip of magic feed into his system.  
A prickling sensation across his back spelled disaster, magic fizzling unpredictably. Dream audibly groaned when his wings became corporeal. The added pressure on his magic felt like a weight on his chest, straining his breath. Of all the useless, illogical things for his magic to do with his expanded reserves, now he was intensely aware of his wings twisted awkwardly in the blankets, feathers tousled and twitching erratically, aching in their own kind. Bringing his hazy thoughts together, Dream tried to dispel his wings. They… just, lay on the bedding, unaffected. Of course.  
Dream contained a high pitched sound of frustration and rolled his skull back against the pillows. His head hurt again. When he cracked open his sockets he could see the glow of his wings contending with the light from the fireplace, but it also made the room spin and his headache worsened, so Dream kept his eyelights scattered and closed his sockets, trying to ignore the compulsive flutter of his wings.  
With more time, and a few more failed attempts, Dream let his wings splay on the blankets and just sunk into the pillows, tired. He could only hope they would destabilise, and dissipate on their own.  
Then, he heard footsteps tapping over wooden floorboards.  
Not bothering to lift his head, Dream listened to the sounds as they halted, the door clicked and swung open, and Blue walked inside, only to stop again.  
“Oh…” Blue’s voice sounded soft, almost awed. At another time, Dream might have appreciated the reverence and honesty of his tone, but his skull hurt too much for him to be particularly flattered. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly and hoped Blue had brought him painkillers. Padded footfalls made their way to his bedside, where a glass of water was set down, the bed sinking slightly as Blue sat next to him.  
A delicate brush of fingers trailing over his feathers made him shiver. Dream slid an eye open to squint narrowly at Blue, feathers bristling slightly as his wings fluffed up. Blue wasn’t remotely paying attention to his - rather feeble - glare. One hand ran down the curve of his wing, carding through the magical feathers and making them rustle softly. Dream shuddered again, hissing between his teeth as his wing stretched and batted at Blue lightly. Said skeleton gave a disgruntled little snort, but nonetheless pulled his hands away.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever touched your wings before.” he said, finally.  
Dream would have liked to chastise him for touching without asking first, but his jaw was stiff and all he managed was indecipherable grumbling, an unfocused golden eyelight fixed on Blue.  
Blue met his gaze evenly, then smiled. Glass clinked against Dream’s teeth. “Here, this should help.”  
The water was cool as it passed his teeth, and it _did_ help his headache, though the faint tingle of magic had him grumbling mildly as his wings fluttered and twitched. Pins-and-needles twinged his body, then swept into a pleasant numbness that soothed his overworked magic. The relief had him relaxing back against the pillows, letting his eyes drift closed as his expression lost its sharp edges. A hand lightly ran over his skull in a soothing, repetitive gesture of comfort, and Dream only made a faint sound of protest as he settled down into the blankets.


End file.
